Days Forgotten
by Emperor Kumquat
Summary: The Predacons perished in the Great Cataclysm. That much is known. But this is their story, their battles, bloodlust, and desperation in the time leading up to their demise. The Predaking emerges as the first and strongest of the Predacons, the race of carnivores who divide Cybertron into hunting grounds. Only the Primes stand between them and the bipeds, total slaughter and chaos.
1. Prologue: Genesis

**This story takes in events from _the Covenant of Primus_, from The Age of Evolution and especially in the subsection titled "Twilight of the Predacons". The story will mostly be from the view of the Predacons. I also wanted to include the Predacon characters who have toys and profiles, as well as the ancient versions of Skylynx and Darksteel. Other events and characters are my own inspired creations. Quotes at the start or end of chapters come from the book_ the Covenant of Primus_.**

* * *

The first assured that their story could only end in tragedy.

On the day the bipeds emerged, Prima had eagerly pointed out their timid group to Alpha Trion. Then shambling among them, _Thirteen_ was spotted in a smaller and simpler form of his previous self. Now Orion Pax, he was a weak and naive bot who gently walked through the troop of animals lingering around the Well. And his eyes, although confused, were peaceful as they looked to the horizon

Alpha Trion turned to Prima. "Do you still think it wise to conceal the nature of the T-Cog?"

The two Primes watched Orion Pax depart for the beyond with the others, to where they would one day settle and begin their lives.

"For now," Prima answered. "There is enough new to be ordered. Besides, they may discover it themselves. If there seems a need later, we can do it then."

The two were never in serious disagreement, and were too close to fight amongst themselves. It was settled for the time being. Together, they observed all manner of life creeping out into the confusing world. While Prima judged them carefully, Alpha Trion recorded all from the smallest of creatures to the bipedal individuals that resembled them. They even visited the tentative settlements, keeping an eye upon the new people of Cybertron without interfering too much.

On the final day of the genesis, those days in which new creatures were being designed en masse, the two Primes were standing as silent guardians in view of the Well of Allsparks. Both were unaware that this would be the last day, and that they were about to behold the largest of all the creations thus far.

First, their interest was triggered by the flickering of the Well's light. It took the Primes a moment to realize that the light was not fading, but that something incredibly large was blocking the light from escaping. They leaned back, glaring attentively as they detected the unmistakable sound of claws screeching across metal.

The Well darkened further, becoming an ominous, black mouth in the distance. Seconds later, the sharp claws hooked over the Well's edge to drag out the monstrous being. It was dark like char, with fierce, yellow eyes lighting its fanged face. The body was sinuous and broad-chested, each limb packed with power as it stalked into the world. Then rising to its full height, it gazed at the smaller creatures around it and realized its superior size and strength. If the beast had been nervous or confused like the others at its creation, it was now no longer.

Its wings unfurled shakily, then stretched to a stunning span as the beast tested the wind, catching it and understanding that it would soon control this force. Then the horned head turned, the tendrils on its face opening to flash its teeth in the sunlight. The Primes blinked. With a stumble, the large creature snapped at the nearest animal and crunched it between its jaws. Energon trickled down its throat, then without hesitation, it tore the animal limb-from-limb and gorged upon the corpse.

Once satisfied, the monster shoved the carcass away. Invigorated by its capabilities, the predator snapped back its head to release a shrill and victorious shriek to the sky. Just then, the light exiting the Well of Allsparks flickered again. Another shriek drifted out from the Well to answer the call. This time, a slighter smaller beast emerged with two heads upon two necks. It saw the blood over the other beast, the torn body, then it snatched a terrified creature and ripped it in half between its two heads.

Behind the second, a third beast was already surfacing, wingless but covered with vanes. It was already joining in with the rapturous hunting cries before it killed something for itself.

"Predacons." Prima stared ahead with unimpressed, glazed eyes. "Savages."

And it was so that they had been named, they and those like them that would come after. The distant, primitive beasts never noticed the shapes of the Primes watching them from afar. The first three Predacons chased the animals, scattering their bodies and feasting in the belief that there was nothing stronger than them. They could not have imagined the scornful face of Prima, as he clutched the Star Saber and considered if they should be allowed to exist.

Not for one second were the Primes afraid for themselves; the Predacons were nothing in comparison to the might of Unicron, whom they had fought before. However, there was Orion Pax and the other bipeds to consider. The carnage around the Well could soon be recreated in a village.

The Primes could not be certain if the Predacons were meant to exist, if Primus had intended them to. Therefore, they wondered if it would be wrong to slaughter a race of his creation.

"Prima." Alpha Trion nodded the Predacons. "They resemble our brother, Onyx, more than any of the other creations."

Prima responded, "Only in appearance, but certainly not in personality. What we now behold is best described as a corruption of Unicron."

The whistles and the hoots of the Predacons changed in tones, in meaning. Alpha Trion commented, "Listen. I believe that they are already developing rudimentary speech."

"So these beasts may be sentient," Prima muttered. "This does not bode well. Has the Covenant not revealed anything to you? Do you know if the Predacons can be tamed, or shall they only bring destruction upon this planet?"

"All that I can tell you is that I foresaw no great, forthcoming danger."

Prima carried on, "Then they shall remain, but we will observe them. If they are sentient, we will allow them the chance to recognize the sentience in the others. If they fail to respect the bipedal race, then I will personally dispose of the Predacons."

Alpha Trion rumbled, "Is it truly just, this chance, if they are unaware of the conditions?"

"A valid criticism. Very well," Prima decided, "if they attack, I will give them a warning. Then if they persist, proving themselves incapable of coexistence, I will eradicate every last one of these Predacons and those forged after them. Primus permit that there will not be many more."


	2. Chapter 1: The Predaking

_From the recordings of Alpha Trion:_

_The first was the largest, the "Predaking," who never, as far as I know, went by another name. His followers were Lazerback and Twinstrike. They were the first of many whose sustenance was gained by hunting and killing others for their Energon, and their creation marked the conclusion of the Well's initial outpouring of life._

* * *

For the next few days, the Predacons travelled and slaughtered every animal that crossed their path. This naturally meant many distractions, so the total distance they covered was not great. However, during this time, they had discovered their natural abilities. Each of them could blast fire that could melt metal, although they also discovered that did not leave anything edible behind if overdone. On top of this, the third Predacon also had a unique ability: a weapon upon its back that could rise up and turn to shoot a searing beam at a target.

The first Predacon was the leader, always at the head of the group. Yet secretly, he was envious of the third Predacon's back weapon and of any time they copied an ability he had discovered. He had even wanted to be the only fire-breathing and flying Predacon, but in the end, he had to reassure himself that none of them would ever match his physical strength, size, and wings. For despite appearances, the smaller two Predacons had learned that they could fly as well. The second, two-headed Predacon surprised them by unlocking wings within its body and opening them. He could take off and fly, but only with constant flapping, otherwise he lost altitude swiftly the moment he stopped.

The third discovered his own way of flying after jealously watching the others. His armour lifted on his underside, vanes spreading out like flowers. This was the closest anyone had come to transformation, and only later would the Predacons learn that the third Predacon was a bit unique. The vanes spun, and soon enough the Predacon discovered that he could fly, slower than the others but with more control. He could ascend and descend like a helicopter, never needing to struggle with flapping.

For the leader, flight was in no way a struggle. When his wings were stretched out like sails, the orange undersides caught the breeze and easily lifted his body into the air. With one pump of them, he could propel himself far ahead of the other two, and his streamlined body allowed him to dive and turn much more easily. They were awkward and much more suited to the ground, while the leader sliced the air like an arrow. Because of that, his spark burned with self-pride.

On the journey, the leader had also created a few words. Their voices were not exactly the same, but meaning came from tones and the length of shrieks or growls in order to create syllables to build words. He would indicate something with a claw, inventing a term that the other two had to repeat in their own way. Naturally, the very first words of the Predacon language revolved around hunting, with words such as prey, kill, fly, and dive-bomb. One day, the trio had spotted another Predacon flying in the distance. The leader, trying to gain the attention of the other two, immediately invented the word for their kind, weaving the word _kill_ into it.

"Predacon," he said.

"Predacon," the two repeated.

The dark leader expanded his large wings and took to the sky, screeching for the new Predacon's attention. Like this, their group expanded from three to four. They taught the new member their words, created more terms, then found even more Predacons for their group. There was no particular reason yet for the Predacons to resist falling under the first one. On the inside, each Predacon imagined that they were superior to the others in their own way. No one was truly aware that the first Predacon was controlling them. If he went one way, they followed since they felt that they wanted to travel that way regardless.

However, since the Predacons had not paid attention to the stars, the direction the sun rose and fell, and the differences in the landscape, they had not realized that they had never strayed far from the Well. Essentially, they flew in circles and continued hunting and gathering new Predacons. For now, those Predacons were only the ones who could fly, as the ones that could not had not travelled so far yet.

Over the weeks, the Predacons grew bored of nonstop killing. Some prey were just far too easy to catch, and they had overengerized on Energon to the point of drunkenness. They took to lazing in the sun and searching for only the hardest prey to hunt. Because of this, the non-flying Predacons finally caught up to the others. It did not take long to recognize that they were kin, although many of the non-flying ones were smaller.

The leader approached each stray Predacon. Many were stocky and brutish, stomping on two legs and curling claws stained with old energon. With the blocky ones, the leader realized that they seemed to be less intelligent, for they struggled greatly to learn the language. But in the end, the first Predacon just grew prejudiced against all the Predacons who could not fly. They were smaller, dumber, and too savage even for his taste. Most Predacons had developed a palate and a joy for hunting as a sport. These Predacons, despite being smaller, had insatiable appetites and shoved any creature into their maws.

He kept them around, since they were no trouble. They dug and entered tunnels on their own while each day the flying Predacons separated to hunt or have mock battles. One day, the leader wondered just how fast he could fly with his grand wings. Flapping, sailing, and spinning, he dashed over the darkening sky, pleased with how the ground whooshed by below him. And with neck curved, he admired his giant shadow drifting over the rocky land. No other Predacon he had ever seen could cast such a shadow or fly this fast and effortlessly out of all the new members. He was still the greatest of them.

Through the darkness spreading over the land, the Predacon suddenly spotted light twinkling in the distance: blue and orange. He turned, soon passing over the first settlement and structures he had ever seen. There was so much new to take in that he circled, yellow eyes narrowed and observing. There were square and triangular homes made of the shiniest metal, that not even the world's natural patches of metal among the rock could compare to.

While the metal glowed bright in the moonlight, there were also transparent containers on rods with fire burning within them. Fire, burning on its own without anyone creating it, and fire that did not seem to grow any weaker. And then there were the two-legged creatures, entering and exiting the buildings with metals to hammer and bend outside. The clanging at forges and the talking rose up through the air to the Predacon, but he understood nothing except that it was beyond him.

These creatures could collaborate, create, and think. The Predacon had thought that only his race had been capable of such a feat, and now, he was irritated. It would be too easy to descend on the bots and burn everything and slash them open. But as irked as he was, he wanted to know everything they did. He believed that Predacons could do all that they could, but they had not been around as long and therefore were behind. And since Predacons were stronger and could be just as intelligent, the leader thought, they were surely superior.

The bots were too occupied with forging and studying to gaze up and pick out the silent flier sailing lazy circles over them. That too, irritated the leader Predacon. It was as though they were denying his superiority by not abandoning their tasks to flee and hide. But he did want to see them working undisturbed, so that he could learn, but he wished they had some understanding of how vulnerable they were. A little nervousness would have been perfect.

He continued to watch, wondering if the houses, ground, and items were made of melted armour. Were they lesser hunters, who killed animals for their energon but melted their bodies into materials? There was indeed a clear pool of energon in the centre, processed like blood was. Yet near the pool was also a hoard of crystals, and a worker packing some of it into a cylinder. That was prey food, not that of a hunter.

His eyebrows wrinkled, but this first encounter was proving a bit too confusing for his mind to process. Later, he would have to come back. Now, he decided he should quickly relay his discovery to the other Predacons before others found the place and destroyed everything he sought to understand.

The leader glided back to the territory bordering the Plains of Iacon. It was where the Predacons returned after hunts, but it never felt like a permanent arrangement. Until he had seen the village, the leader had not had any desire for a home. He had thought that being sheltered and staying in one place was a habit of prey, but on the flight back, he reconsidered. Perhaps settling was necessary in order to become stronger. He could claim a land, gather more and more Predacons under him, and spend less time flying and more time learning.

When he returned, the leader screeched for everyone's attention. Some sleepy heads rose, some looked up from meals, and a few glared but kept gnawing on limbs.

"I saw new animals. Animals with two legs." He raised a foot to demonstrate the approximate height. "They have a thing I want."

The expressions of his listeners were confused, and it irritated the leader that he did not have more words for the thoughts and feelings he had.

"You see two-legs," he rumbled. "Do not kill. I want to see them. Do not kill the two-legs."

The Predacons understood positive and negative imperatives. But never had _no kill_ been put together in their language. Immediately, the Predacons rose and protested, some with words and some with just angry screeching.

"Do not eat!" he shrieked. Some Predacons quieted, indifferent, since there was plenty to eat regardless. The stronger Predacons and the wingless ones, however, continued hooting.

"Eat what want!" a squat, two-legged Predacon grunted. "See, kill!"

Others said the same, but the wingless one had the misfortune of being the closest to the leader. He swung out with a snarl, his long claws scoring over his face and chest. The smaller Predacon hollered in pain, stumbling and splattering energon. The leader felt nothing but frustration as the hackles of the other Predacons rose. No one had ever tried to rule over another Predacon, to force them to do something that they had not wanted. Though they had lived together, they had felt that each decided their own lives.

"What are you doing?" barked one of the first followers of the leader. He had a better grasp of the language and could express more. "Prey is small, prey is prey. We want to, Predacons kill!"

"No!" The leader stalked closer, orange burning in his throat as he rose to his full height. "They have… _knowledge_"- he invented the word then, but no one would understand until later- "Predacons will take it. Then, Predacons can kill."

"_Knowledge_ is what?" the third Predacon to be forged asked, but without a threat hidden in his growling.

"You will fly with me," the leader said. "You will see."

Most Predacons were curious enough to calm down. However, the least intelligent and some of the strongest Predacons hated to be told how to behave. Every day, they flew where they wanted and hunted what they chose. It had been a choice to return each day and to learn the developing language, because it had been beneficial for themselves.

The blue Predacon that had spoken against him now stepped forward with such purpose that others moved out of his way. The onlookers could sense a bristling in the air, the first hatred between one Predacon and another. The Predacons assumed that the challenger, the smaller winged Predacon, was about to be wounded like the squat one had been. Yet raising his head, the blue Predacon looked without fear at the larger one. Consequently, the leader bared his teeth and growled at the lack of submission.

"See the two-legs is good, _knowledge_... yes, no good for Predacons," the challenger tried to articulate. "I do not know. We, Predacons, can have _knowledge_ and eat one, two of the two-legs. I want to taste. Kill one, two not bad."

With a shrill shriek, the leader hooked his arm and slashed at the smaller Predacon. But it was the same strike that he had used on the squat Predacon, and the blue one had memorized it. He leapt back, hissing and dashing around the leader. Within a second, the two were prowling in a circle, growling and tensed to attack.

"I choose," the dark Predacon snapped. "You will follow _or_"- he created a new conjunction, which was quite understandable in the context- "You will bleed, like prey."

"You are not…" The blue Predacon's eyes narrowed. "My _leader_."

The larger Predacon's eyes snapped open in fury. The challenger had created a new word, derived from the words _follow _and _Predacon_. Only the leader had been the one to invent words. His wings flared open, throwing back the other Predacons around him, even the second and the third to be forged. Before the blue Predacon could react, the leader lunged, forearms and neck outstretched, to slam him to the rock.

Mercilessly, claws impaled his arms and wings. While he writhed and the other Predacons collected themselves, the leader grabbed the Predacon's throat in his mouth, then lifted his body off the ground. He hurled the smaller Predacon into the crowd, bloody and shocked, then the leader charged after him to give no time of recovery. After a flurry of bites and blows, the leader slammed down a foot onto his chest, letting his long claws wrap around the blue Predacon's wounded throat.

"_Leader_?" he spat to the blue Predacon. "I am more good. I choose all! Predacons will follow me, have _knowledge_, prey, and strength. Or I will kill Predacons! I choose!"

He lifted his horned head, whipping his neck from left to right to take in the staring crowd of Predacons. Then stretching out his unsurpassed wings, he shrieked to the sky, "I am not your _leader_! I am your _king_!"

Then the king dropped his head, spreading the tendrils of his face to bring his fangs very close to the blue Predacon's face.

"Say this word," he growled. "My word."

The yellow eye of the turned head burned with hatred, but the body was slumped in defeat. "King," he uttered.

"I am the king of all Predacons," he hissed. "Know it."

"Yes. You are king."

"All Predacons!" the king hollered to the others in the blue Predacon's face. "Say the word!"

After a stunned pause, they chirped and grunted, "King!"

The king had meant to say _words_, with the plural ending. But then he had a new idea, to combine the word _Predacon _and _king_ together into one comprehensible and stronger-sounding word.

"No!" he boomed to the Predacons gathered that night. "I am the _Predaking_!"

The sky then echoed with cries of the first named Predacon, a cacophony of deafening trills and shrieks unlike any sound that had ever been heard upon Cybertron before. Nearby animals scrambled to their burrows and took to the air in fright as the ground and air seemed to quake.


	3. Chapter 2: His First Challengers

_We remnant Primes entered a time of growth and guardianship, wandering alone across the huge surface of our growing world and marking its changes and seasons, observing the rise and fall of small populations- we moved in the scale of Deep Time, stellar cycles our moments and millennia our hours. Orion Pax and his bipedal companions survived a variety of trials, and in their conversations developed the beginnings of a social, talkative culture that rose somewhat above the baseline cacophony of survival and self-interest that dominated the rest._

* * *

The wounded, blue Predacon burned inside as he dragged himself away and listened to the simplistic chatter of the others. No one was interested in helping him, but no one knew either how to heal wounds. Yellow eyes hardly gave him a glance as he crawled to the other Predacon that had been slashed by the Predaking.

He did not care for the stumpy Predacons either, but he saw a chance to make an ally. He dragged himself to the lee of the lonely boulder and lowered his head near the other Predacon's.

"Bad leader," the blue Predacon hissed. "We will not follow him."

"Yeah," grunted the other as he poked at his own leaking cuts.

"Yes…" The draconic Predacon nudged him gently. "Bad."

The two-legged Predacon tried to pinch together the torn metal on his chest, but he snarled in pain. Watching the short one's efforts, the yellow eyes of the blue Predacon glinted.

"Little fire," he advised the him. "It will…"

He did not have words for _close up_, so he raised a foot and squeezed all his claws together. To his relief, the stumpy Predacon did not appear to be as dumb as stereotyped. He understood and looked expectantly at the blue Predacon.

"I cannot fire," the blue one explained. "Find another Predacon…"

"No fire?"

"I have no fire. Other."

"What?"

But he wanted to keep his secret ability to himself, until he could use it in an advantageous situation. Instead, he spread a wing to pull in a close, brutish Predacon like the one he had been talking to. The group of them were often hunting mates, thundering along together, and a dozen had been lingering around to stare at their comrade. Perhaps, this one would be willing to help.

The blue Predacon explained his idea, then the other Predacon gently blew fire over his hunting partner's cuts until the metal melted together. It was a sloppy job, but effective. The bleeding stopped, and the other two Predacons were so stunned that their jaws dropped.

The blue Predacon said, "The leader will not kill you. He is one Predacon, we are more. Stronger."

"Stronger!" they echoed.

The draconic one stretched and rolled, relieved when they focused their fire to weld his wounds. The loss of energon had made him extremely dizzy, and he knew inside that he was going to need their loyalty to heal and survive. Never had he felt so drained of energy, but he knew inside that he would need someone to feed him at least one meal to get back on his feet.

And he wouldn't stop there. The blue Predacon had ideas, but he had no current way of acting upon them. There needed to be more words in the Predacon language before he could twist them artistically to manipulate others. He alone was not a particularly strong Predacon, but he had learned very quickly that his mind was sharper than the others'. Than the Predaking's.

He would get his revenge on the Predaking, but first he would have to wait for words. He would even have to push, creating new ones behind the Predaking's back and spreading them throughout the population. All the while, he would scheme of how he would attempt to murder the Predaking without anyone being aware that he had been involved. This was in case his first plan failed. That way, he would be unharmed and able to try to kill him, again and again until he succeeded.

By that point, idealistically, the Predacons would respect his intelligence so much that they would look to him for guidance. They would accept _him_ as the natural king of the Predacons.

* * *

Just before the sun had risen, the Predaking collected the second- and third-born Predacons to fly to the place he had just visited. The going was slow with the poor fliers, but the Predaking took the time to swoop back and assure that they were not being followed. And just as he sliced through the clouds, he spotted a party of Predacons below him also hiding in the cloud cover. Their shapes dashed by, with their heads directed forward as they followed two Predacons up in front.

_False leaders._

The Predaking boiled inside at the thought that someone else, let alone _two _others, would dare take up a role of leadership. What was especially unforgivable was that the goal they had in mind was to challenge him. Clearly, making an example of one Predacon had not been enough.

The best option would have been to rejoin the other two and lead the group on a false trail. That way, they would be further away from the bipeds he wished to study. However, the Predaking's rage was too great. Smoke and orange curved out the sides of his mouth as he screeched and dive-bombed the centre of the group. Then like a crack of thunder, his wings and body crashed into multiple Predacons at once. Each of the leaders was pierced by the claws of a forefoot, and his lashing tail scraped the faces and flanks of the others. For a few seconds, the group leaders shrieked and hung in his grip from the shock of the attack. Then, they writhed and swung back their heads, blasting fire and snapping their beaks.

One of them was dark blue, with silver horns and an orange crest on his head. He managed to slip away first, back bleeding, before clamping his wide beak into the Predaking's forearm. Such a bite would have crushed the legs of prey, but the Predacon's eyes widened when the tough armour hardly dented.

The other leader had blues and silvers in his pelt, with crimson claws and horns. When he bit the Predaking, he drew blood since the top of his beak was lined with fangs. Still, the fury of the Predaking was so intense that he did not react to the pain. As the other ten Predacons regained balance and swooped toward him, the Predaking punched and clawed the two group leaders until they dropped, battered and dazed. Blasts of fire then targeted him from all sides, but he swung his long neck, moving his face from the heat. Shrieking, his wings snapped out and struck, easily reaching and striking many Predacons at once. Their beams of fire spun off target, and they rolled without time to recover. The Predaking was too strong, and because of his ferocity, too fast and relentless. He dove from one Predacon to another, digging his impressively long front claws into their hides and wings.

These Predacons had no sort of military strategy for fighting. For until this point, Predacons had not seriously fought each other and never together in a group. There was no coordination. Comrades were picked off one-by-one, and clumsy attempts were made to charge in. Each time, they were smashed by either the Predaking's bladed tail or his wings.

It was not the Predaking's intention to kill any of his own kind at this time. Just emerging as a king, he did not see anyone as a threat so major that he would have to terminate them. He relished this, how easy it was to beat them down into submission. Yes, he wanted them to live. The more alive, the more to obey him.

The Predaking adored his wings even more than before. They gave him a serious advantage in the air, reaching far out where his claws couldn't. They were easily four times as large as most of these Predacons' wings, and then his tail, it was perfect for combat. That blade on the end was causing just as much chaos and damage as his own claws and teeth. Without even needing to use his fire, the Predaking's own brute strength sent all twelve Predacons fleeing. With a satisfied huff, he watched the defeated challengers and thought of the message they would send.

The sound of flapping and whirling came behind him; it was the second and third Predacons to be forged, his closest allies. They had heard the shrieks and violence in the sky, and they had arrived to see each Predacon fall before the Predaking. Their own shock and admiration had kept them from aiding him, but this pleased the Predaking more. This is how he wanted everyone to see the win: he, alone, against the twelve.

The second Predacon, the two-headed one with a yellow and blue coat, nodded double. "You are strong."

"Very strong," the Predacon without wings agreed.

There was no deceit clear in their eyes. The Predaking decided to trust them, and with an unperturbed flick of his head, he flung energon off his brow.

"We will fly," the Predaking growled.

As though there had been no great fight, they continued on their path to the village.

* * *

With light now soaking the world, the Predaking knew that they would be much easier to spot. Furthermore, the others could not glide. Their noisy flight would have alerted the bipeds easily, despite all their banging and chattering on the ground. Once the hard, straight lines of the settlement took shape, the Predaking landed them and took them closer on foot.

Three Predacons flying low and watching them might have been too much, sending the smaller creatures into their homes. The Predaking stalked ahead, testing how close they could get before the bipedal creatures grew nervous. As they came nearer, the Predaking noticed a mass of them at the edge of the village, erecting long sheets and beams of metal, the very metal they had been shaping during the night. His yellow eyes stared, not with hunger, but with interest. Somehow, they were getting the beams to connect and hold with the help of smaller bits of metal.

In their hands, tools burned metal and caused sparks to fly. Without any exposure to the bipeds before, the second and third Predacons were flabbergasted.

"Fire, in their claws?" the two-headed Predacon spluttered.

"No," the Predaking rumbled.

"And they do not have claws," the lazer-backed Predacon added. "Other thing."

"_Hands_," the Predaking decided.

The three Predacons walked closer to where the bipeds were building new houses. Little, round heads were beginning to turn more often towards them. The Predaking halted them, but even stopping their approach did not calm the bipeds. They had started to drop what they held and pushed back, jabbering amongst themselves. Soft-ended fingers lifted, pointing straight at the carnivores.

The Predacons could faintly hear their voices, but easily saw how the sounds they made encouraged others into reacting.

"They speak?" the third Predacon chittered.

The second conceded, "It is more good."

Unwilling to openly admit it, the Predaking growled. But it was clear that these creatures had a precise grasp on language. No one had the confused or frustrated expressions that Predacons had as they struggled to express themselves. It was all action. The builders lingered or skittered away, but at the same time, something else was happening. A line of larger bipeds was coming forward, more than thirty bulky shapes carrying weapons. Except, the Predacons could not identify them as weapons. They saw only rods with strange, curved tops, with nothing obviously shaped for cutting.

This left the Predacons confused. They thought that these larger bipeds had come to build, but instead, they just stood at the village's edge and watched the Predacons. Like boulders, they did not move or become distracted. Cautiously, the builders snuck back to their work, so the Predaking lay down to observe. One after the other, the two Predacons settled down beside him and lay their heads over their arms.

Unbeknownst to him, the Predaking had just lowered the tension. The village protectors lowered their crossbows, thinking that they had frightened the Predacons into staying at that distance. If the Predaking had known that they thought he feared _them_, he would have been tempted to rattle them by flying over them so that they could see how large and powerful he was. That would put them in their place. But for now, he watched the builders while the large and the smaller bipeds kept a wary eye on him.

After a few hours, the Predacons' focus was getting to them. The distant beasts of claws and teeth were staring so unnaturally and eerily at them. The nervous chatter started up again, then the Predacons saw something racing away from the village. It was startling at first, but the Predacons then realized that it was a group of bipeds riding on the backs of zap-ponies. Wild groups of zap-ponies had been occasional prey before, but not many Predacons enjoyed them since they could electrocute and harm if not instantly killed. Even the Predaking had gone through a few frustrating days with a burnt, numb mouth after biting a living one of these.

This collaboration between the bipeds and the animals confused the Predaking more. He still thought that these shiny sheets of metal were made from melted corpses, but how could killers be able to use animals in this way? Why were the zap-ponies not afraid of the bipeds? At the sight of a Predacon, zap-ponies would gallop away, so the Predaking could not imagine how anyone could even get near them.

The Predacons watched the messengers leave, more interested in the tools and buildings than the departing villagers. They stayed and stretched out, learning all that they could from what they heard and saw. Listening carefully, the Predaking tried to pick up words of their language. Yet without anyone helping him, pointing at things and teaching him personally, it was just a jumble of nonsense to him. He couldn't get a single word, but it felt like he could. He _should_ be able to understand. He could feel the resonance of sound within him, prickling like his firing nerves.

The Predaking thought it could be because the language, although more advanced than his, was simple. It was deeper than that. It was his own spark and also the memory of Onyx Prime embedded into his metal, which were familiar with this language.

* * *

No one disturbed the Predacons, thus they watched for a while still. They did not hear silent footsteps on a hill behind them, as a bipedal form larger than the rest reached the top. Even the Cybertronian people could not have expected him to arrive so fast after the message had been sent. But as one of the thirteen original Primes, he worked in ways not understood by the rest. No one, from the proud hunters to even the armed village guards, noticed Prima's silver-white form.

Prima rested his hands over the hilt of the Star Saber, patiently watching and listening to the Predacons. For weeks, the races had been keeping to themselves. He had been keeping a steady eye on the beasts, walking unnoticed even into their own camp to get the rawest information. He had been there to witness the Predaking take command of the developing Predacon nation, though Prima loathed the thought of such carnivorous savages becoming a kingdom. The Predacons and particularly their king were so proud that they would treat no other creature with respect.

_You are ignorant_, Prima thought to himself. _You do not know what real strength is. _

Upon hearing the messenger's concerned words, Alpha Trion had explained to Prima that it could be good that the Predacons were interested in technology. Their minds might have been opening up to the idea of creation instead of destruction. Prima, who had been spying for so long, did not have this optimism. He had been around and had learned the Predacon's rudimentary language. Everything those Predacons had said and were saying now, Prima understood.

Even the Predaking, as curious as he was, still cared nothing about the lives of the bipeds.

* * *

The sunset came with its colourful streaks falling over the rocky and metal terrain. The Predacons stirred, insides rumbling for something to grind. The remains of their last meals had already been filtered and coughed up beside them, mere pieces of crushed metal and tubes dry of energon. It had been a while since they had eaten. Now, each of them had the temptation to grab one of the bipeds, who were so close while nothing else was around.

The second Predacon looked hopefully toward the bipeds. He asked the Predaking, "Do you have the knowledge you wanted?"

The Predaking hesitated. He also wanted to be done with the bipeds, to have everything he needed, but inside he knew that he had barely learned a thing. He still did not understand where the bipeds had gotten such pure metal.

"No," he rumbled.

The other two growled softly in disappointment. The Predaking stalked past them and opened his wings, growling, "One day, they will be prey. Now, no. I do not have what I want."

At last, the three Predacons took to the sky and left the sight of the villagers. The people were relieved, yet the lone warrior who descended the hill was still simmering in apprehension.


	4. Chapter 3: The Kill

_He [the Predaking] had learned only that there was a certain kind, a sort of miner, he thought, that he should avoid. This kind was a medium-sized, unprepossessing sort of bot that walked upright on two legs and had no distinguishing features of interest except a rudimentary blob head._

* * *

The Predaking's reputation as a brutally strong Predacon had increased significantly after the twelve wounded Predacons had returned. No one else was eager to follow him to the bipeds, but the Predaking wanted to ascertain that their fear of him was so great that they wouldn't sneak off behind his back. When he returned to the camp, he was pleasantly surprised to see Predacons shying away from him. Those that remained firm and bold, he struck and snapped at with such ferocity that they scattered.

It was then stunned silence and occasional whimpers. Predacons tried not to make eye contact, even when the Predaking growled, "Where are they?"

Pools of energon gleamed on the ground, and flexing his face, he could smell that it was indeed the blood of other Predacons. The others parted, showing the clear trail up to the pack of injured Predacons. They were exhausted scraps of themselves, who turned their heads as he approached. The Predaking glazed his eyes over them and noticed that their cuts were silvery, melted shut to stop the bleeding.

It was smart. While the Predaking had been thinking of melting bodies, he had not thought of carefully using fire to melt oneself for healing purposes. He raised his neck and shrieked over them, just to watch everyone around him flinch, before he stalked away and noted the healing technique in his mind. He even told himself that he would have thought of the idea himself, except he had been too formidable to get injured like them.

The Predaking passed by the scarred, blue Predacon from the other day. He had been close to where the other twelve had been, but he was now curled up in a ball as though to sleep. Two slits of yellow glowed through the darkness, observing the Predaking without visible emotion. Baring his thick fangs, the Predaking growled. Slowly, the blue Predacon closed his eyes and slid a wing over his face.

Continuing on, the Predaking gathered his two companions and strode among the Predacons. As he intimidated one Predacon to the next, they began to join in and take advantage of their favour with the Predaking. Once all Predacons had been shaken or scratched, the three powerful Predacons finally lay down to rest.

* * *

Despite previous bitterness about being told what they could and could not hunt, the Predacons decided that it was not worth going after the bipeds. They saw the Predaking as insane, unnecessarily violent, and not someone to get on the bad side of. After all, he had been the first to turn on one of his own kind. Only later would the Predacons find infighting natural.

Time was the greatest factor of this. There was a steady trickle of Predacons joining day-by-day, meaning that to find good prey meant going further out. No one was keen on having to be the one to go further, and little spats would start over the prey caught nearby. Then with more words coming into existence, insults added rage to the fights. Largely, the Predaking was unaware of it. Fighting just became a part of the culture, _his_ culture since he saw the Predacons as his own. No one had died during the next year that followed, a very long period of time to the newly forged Predacons.

The Predaking spent most of his time near the village, watching and experimenting with metal. And since Predacons had been pushing out looking for territory, some sorry Predacons had stumbled into the area and discovered the village. They had been quickly chased off with a number of burns and scratches from their king. Curiosity could not be stopped, however, and one-by-one Predacons had a peek at the people.

Paranoid, the Predaking slept nearby and had the second and third Predacons either guard or scout for more bipedal settlements. There were others, but they were as same to the Predacons as this place. And from his companions, new words would be passed to him, for unfortunately, he could not keep hold of a language. It was growing without him, and now Predacons had been giving themselves names.

First, this offended the Predaking greatly. He thought that only he deserved to be distinguished from the rest, that the others did not have as much intelligence to be individuals. Yet fierce names were appearing, too popular among Predacons to be stopped. Even his Predacon versions of lieutenants had chosen theirs. The second Predacon with two heads and a golden body was now Twinstrike. The third Predacon was Lazerback, and the blue Predacon who had first challenged the Predaking was Skystalker. Even the Predaking, who did not want to admit that other Predacons were unique, remembered his enemies with choler. The two leaders he had taken down in that sky battle long ago had been Darksteel and Skylynx, although the Predaking was not sure of the meaning of the _lynx_ in that name. It seemed to just be a random, aesthetic sound, adding too much individuality.

For Predacons, using anything other than real words was strange for names. Random syllables did not usually become names, but it was commonly acceptable to throw together words such as _strong_, _sky_, _terror_ to a body part like _claw_, _wing_, _fang_, or _tail_. To console himself, the Predaking thought that he still had the greatest name of all. King- that was all his, and no one else could be worthy of it. All Predacons had powerful bodies, claws, and teeth as hunters, so really there was nothing special in everyone choosing a powerful name.

Fangblade, Backlash, Ripclaw. These were other Predacons of that group he had fought in the sky. The tendrils of Predaking's mouth unlocked and curled in irritation as he struggled to mold the abused corpse of an animal. Not everything seemed to be going his way, and now this project was stressing him beyond anything else. No matter what creature he used, he could never get a pure, shiny metal. He had tried everything that he could think of. He had first used the body parts he had filtered out from a meal, but the tubes and colours of metals had melted into an awful mess. He had tried separating the parts, but that too had been difficult.

The Predaking killed fresh animals and had tried clawing off the silver parts. He had pushed the energon-soaked metal away into a separate pile, but burning them taught him that the energon ruined the quality. So he shook the body parts and lay them on slanted hills to let the energon run off. Then after all that work, he tried melting the pieces. While the colour was finally right, he always got an unusable mush stuck to the ground. How could he ever mass produce this for Predacon use? His claws and teeth struggled to get the perfect sheets that the bipeds had created. Something as lumpy and small as this had no purpose.

Moreover, his body sizzled in frustration that he had not surpassed the two-legged creatures yet. How did they make such intricate shapes with metal? He had seen the village develop much in the time he had spent near it. Even more bipeds moved in, more buildings and taller ones had appeared, and the ground had been smoothed over too with clean metal. The Predaking swatted away his unattractive metal lump and shrieked. His eyes narrowed at the bipedal silhouettes that he had seen day in and day out for months. Did they see his struggles and think they were smarter than him? Did they dare think they were superior with their hands and more developed language? The Predaking only imagined what they said out of earshot, in their pathetic, tiny shelters that they thought would shield them from his wrath.

If only he could show them the meaning of fear! The Predaking barely held in his patience. The bipeds were already so nervous about him that the workers ran inside when he flew over them, hiding knowledge from him as a consequence. There was even no more flying over them at night unnoticed, for now they had set up guards to watch out for him.

The bipeds were constantly leaving the village, bearing back something else hidden in wagons. Those too, the Predaking wanted to recreate, but he was far from creating anything as smooth as a wheel. He thought that their secret knowledge had to do with where they travelled, but if he tried to follow a departing group, they instantly turned back. At least they were wise enough to know how vulnerable they were alone under an open sky. The Predaking was proud to think that this domain belonged to the Predacons.

To ease his anger, the Predaking tracked down a large Insecticon to sink his claws into. He slammed down on it from the sky, tearing off its limbs and wings and ripping it in half. It was a fairly strong creature, whose pained whoops and struggles satisfied him. When it died, his growls subsided, he relaxed, and he settled down to eat. Yet he had made such a mess that most of the blood had leaked from the body, mixing into the dirt. The Predaking would never scrape his head on the ground and pathetically try to scoop energon into his mouth. In the end, he only gulped up the guts and organs with energon left inside them. It wasn't much at all, since an Insecticon was usually a feast, but its life was not worth enough to him for him to care.

When the Predaking wandered back and met Twinstrike, he rumbled, "Tomorrow, I will follow those bipeds and see where they go. Perhaps if I allow them some distance, I can relocate them before they reach their destination. They will not turn back then, even if they see me, for they have gone too far."

"I believe that will work," Twinstrike agreed.

"You and Lazerback must stay behind. They will hear you approaching otherwise."

The two red-eyed heads nodded.

The Predacons slumbered under the moon and waited for the morning, when the bipeds began their journeys. When the Predaking's eyes opened, he jolted awake in shock at the sight of a rock right in front of his face. He sat up and instinctively whacked it aside, then snarled that he had been startled by it. It was in no way a threat, but now he stalked a circle around it.

"What is it, my king?" Twinstrike asked.

"How did this get here?" the Predaking hissed.

"Where?"

"Before my face! Someone has put it there while I slept!"

Twinstrike's other head babbled, "But that is impossible. No Predacon could sneak up on you. We would have heard them. Maybe it was the wind?"

"The wind? It was not the wind!" he screeched back. "The wind cannot move rocks of this size!"

The Predaking slammed his tail into the iron ore to send it flying.

"It was one of the bipeds." His claws pierced a native patch of metal. "The arrogant creatures. They tested us, and now they believe that they are better than us!"

"One of them came here, and we did not wake up?" Twinstrike blinked in disbelief.

The Predaking's wings twitched and his backside rose. "We should have heard their approach! Never will I be so inattentive again. I am losing my instincts as a Predacon, spending too much time here."

"Maybe." Twinstrike saw it as his duty to agree. "This playing with food and metal... Why is it important for Predacons? We already have better things than they do. Teeth, claws, wings, and our own fire. They will never have that!"

Finally, the Predaking's mood lifted. For all these months, more than a year of his life, his mind had been cloudy with constant frustration. Perhaps it was true, that he would never be able to create what the bipeds could. But Predacons possessed something that the bipeds did not, and it was surely superior. The Predaking did not have to waste his time and grow soft here. With more Predacons coming into the world, he needed to grow physically stronger instead in order to control them all.

Still he hesitated, hating to let all his work go to waste. That would only confirm that he had spent his time terribly.

"I will find out where the bipeds travel," the Predaking decided. "That will be the last thing. Then, we will prey upon them."

"Really?" Twinstrike chittered.

"Yes," he answered. "And perhaps their reaction will be more entertaining than my project was. If they think they are more intelligent than us, then let us see what they will create to protect themselves. We have the power to change their lives."

They peered at the departing groups of bipeds, wagons, and work animals. Twinstrike clicked his teeth together, but at the sound, the Predaking whirled on him.

"Do not dare kill one before I have!" Orange glowed in his throat. Twinstrike lowered his body submissively.

"Alright, my Predaking."

"_I_ will tell you when you may."

"I understand..."

The Predaking fixed him with a glare.

"...Predaking," Twinstrike finished.

"Good," the Predaking growled back. He glanced back to the departing groups, and Twinstrike waited in uncomfortable silence for an hour. Then, the Predaking stalked ahead and opened his great wings, pressing off and soaring into the distance. His sinuous, dark body slid into the clouds in pursuit of the miners.

He tried not to be seen, just in case they changed their true destination out of fear. He peeked down occasionally, struggling a bit to relocate them since he had no blood of theirs to track. Then he saw them, a cluster stopping in a pit in the ground that the Predaking did not know was called a quarry. The zap-ponies rested and drank from a pool of natural energon with the wagons beside them, while the bipeds were climbing down the rocky slope. The Predaking brought his head back up into the clouds and glided closer, until he could look down again and make out the strange shapes- pickaxes, in their hands.

At a steady rhythm, they were chipping away at the rocks specked with metal. The Predaking did not realize that it was one of these rocks that had been placed in front of his face this morning. The dots were not connected, and he had suddenly lost so much interest in forging that he didn't realize how these ores were connected to the construction beams and sheets. All at once, he scorned the bipeds and their strange habits. None of it made them any better than him, so there was no reason for them to continue.

His interest was officially over. Now, the frustration of the months overtook him and sparked rage. There they were, thinking that they were so clever and superior. Diving from the sky, the Predaking cast a sharp shadow over the quarry. The workers did not notice the shadow, perhaps mistaking it for a cloud covering the sun. The Predaking's growl heightened into an enraged screech that finally shot the smaller creatures with terror. It was time to teach them how vulnerable they were. They needed to be reminded that they were weak, helpless, and as smart as they were in their own way, they were still _prey_.

Heads turned up and eyes widened in terror. The massive Predacon that had been plaguing their village had appeared from nowhere, its sharp cry shattering the day's peace. The horses whinnied and thundered away, pulling the reins and felling wagons. But the real targets, the bipeds, hollered and panicked. They saw the yellow eyes focused on them and realized their defenselessness being here trapped in a pit. No one considered gripping their pickaxes for battle. Instead, they threw away their tools and frantically scrambled to the nearest quarry walls.

The Predaking parted his lower jaw and shrieked now in triumph. Their high-pitched screams reached him, and he loved how they scaled the wall in terror, as if the surface would be any safer than the pit. Their trembling sparks would soon realize that there was nowhere out here to hide. They were many leagues away from cover, mountains, or tunnels, exposed under the sky. When he crashed onto the edge, he growled a laugh as they tumbled back, suddenly fleeing into the pit they had just tried to leave.

One of the miners had crawled out too fast and had reached the surface. He squealed and leapt off the edge, but the Predaking lashed out his left forefoot and neatly caught the biped mid-air. His long claws wrapped easily around the thin body, closing tightly so that his prey could not wiggle free. Those small hands the Predaking had watched building now pounded and pulled desperately at the claws, wailing and crying out in his language. Again, that language tingled in the Predaking's frame as something so familiar. Despite this, the Predaking was so full of spite and disdain that he felt nothing. He did not feel that they were akin, that the biped's individual life had any worth.

There were ridiculous, long appendages on its back that did not seem to serve any real purpose. They were triangular and flat, not even made for grabbing. All they seemed to do was express the biped's emotions, and the unknown wings pressed down against the claws in fright. The Predaking stood still for many seconds, staring at the panicking bot who only cut himself trying to escape. Slowly, the Predaking became disappointed. This had been much too easy. Other animals were much more entertaining to catch and had even put up more fight.

The Predaking opened his wings and tore off the ground into the sky. The other bipeds screamed in horror as their companion was snatched, legs kicking and voice erupting in screams. Their arms reached out, but none of them knew how to fly and could do nothing. The Predaking flapped and glided into the distance, their friend disappearing with him.

The creature would not stop screaming in his grasp. It was a long flight back to the Predacon's main camp, and Predaking's disappointment in the hunt made him impatient. He only wished to show off the first bipedal kill in front of the others, to ceremoniously give permission to the other Predacons to do what they liked. The Predaking lifted his other forefoot, extending a claw to pierce it between the bot's back. After a pop, the biped went limp. It flopped over the Predacon's claws with a trickle of energon leaking out between its wings.

The silence was much better. For hours, the Predaking felt the weight of the dead biped, shaking it a bit to see how the legs, arms, and wings bounced. But he grew very bored of it eventually, and just held it in a way so that energon would not spill out its back. He at least wanted a better meal than the one he had previously had of the Insecticon. And the scent of the fresh energon by his face did have an appealing sweetness to it.

When the Predaking slammed down into the camp, he shrieked for everyone's attention. Yet he had already had most of it, since everyone knew the exact sound of his wing flaps. Their eyes bugged at the sight of the two-legged body in his hand. Even when he placed it down, they could only hold their gazes on it instead of him.

"I have decided that there is nothing that I need from these creatures!" he shrieked. "Predacons have more than they will ever have! We are smarter and stronger, more superior in every sense! Now we shall dominate them like all other creatures on this world. It is our right! Do as you want with the bipeds; they are now your prey!"

The Predacons screeched and chirped in excitement as the Predaking took a vicious bite out of the torso. Now he was being wasteful, spraying energon all over the ground, but there was a need for show. The Predacons hopped around in a frenzy, wanting to see how the biped's body ripped. Lazerback and Twinstrike watched a Predacon come too close to a splat of energon, only for the Predaking to claw him away. No one was going to get a taste, but they squirmed in eagerness, watching the body getting torn apart bit-by-bit. Everyone imagined how it would be for them, to also break those parts between their teeth.

In truth, the Predaking was disappointed again. He had imagined that the bipeds might have an extraordinary flavour, but they were rather normal if he was honest with himself. And since they were so easy to catch, he couldn't imagine being so enthusiastic about hunting them again. Maybe only if he caught a bunch at once, terrorizing a village, it would be amusing. They were sweet enough that he would hunt more, but perhaps only in a mixed diet of other things.

The Predaking bit off and swallowed the creature's head, not even entertained much at the thought that he was destroying and eating the mind of the creature he had tried to comprehend. There wasn't much left of the body now that he wanted to eat. After the chest, guts, legs, and head, the remains and especially the wings did not look like they would be rich in energon. Should he eat them just to make a point in front of the Predacons? At this point, he would usually just burn the rest into the ground.

The Predaking's energon-coated mouth opened again, but then a distant voice boomed, "Enough!"

It had spoken in the tonal language of the Predacons, yet its voice had the clear rings of the bipeds the Predaking had listened to. The Predaking halted, snapping his head up to the largest biped he had ever seen standing at the edge of the Predacon camp. All Predacons went silent, staring with their king and trying to figure out what was going on. Nothing made sense- a biped, here in their territory, was speaking their language. Each one thought they were hallucinating, but glanced around and saw that everyone else was looking where they were.

The biped shone like moonlight, his body a stunning silver-white colour. He strode without fear through the crowd, the hundreds of eyes upon him, and he pointed a glowing, blue sword toward their ruler.

"My name is _Prima_," he boomed. "For too long, I have watched you and your Predacons abuse your _Primus_-given power against others. I have allowed your kind to live this long, to give you a chance."

The Predaking did not know what Primus exactly was, but the Cybertronian word that the biped had thrown into its speech gave him a chill. Regardless, he realized that this biped was really here, storming up to him as though it had a right to be in the camp. And how could it be so arrogant as to not fear the Predacons surrounding it? How could a non-Predacon dare take a name, just as he did!

The Predaking rose over the remains and growled, "How dare you tell me, that you- a pathetic, little creature, allow _me_ to live?"

The nearest Predacons to Prima stalked closer. With a bellow, Prima spun in a circle and a blue wave shot out, striking the Predacons and flipping them heads over tails.

"You believe that you are the strongest on this planet!" Prima approached the Predaking steadily. "You are arrogant! You know nothing. I cannot even say all that I wish to in your _primitive_ language. You will understand it as only Predacons can."

The Predaking stretched up to his full height and hissed down at Prima. "You want to fight me? Do you really think that a creature like _you_ could fight a Predacon?"

The Predaking gestured at the biped's body, and the face of the Prime grew more grim. He marched straight through the shocked Predacons up to their king, so close that the Predaking could extend his neck and bite him. In case the confident biped really did not understand how foolish it was to come this close, the Predaking brought his large head closer.

Prima's white eyes locked with the Predaking's. His expression was tight with hate and disgust as he uttered, "You will never kill another biped again."

The Predaking bared his teeth, letting energon drip through the gaps and onto the ground. He released a shriek directly in the Prime's face, but he did not budge even a centimetre. The Star Saber remained in a deadly, focused grasp in Prima's hands.

"I am the king!" the Predaking screeched. "I obey no one!"

He lunged, then Prima disappeared into a haze of blinding, blue light.


	5. Chapter 4: Prima

_They were pathetically easy to capture, but after the first uninspiring meal of one, he had been visited by a much larger and angrier version of the same thing that carried with it a large, bladed stick._

* * *

Metal tore at the base of the Predaking's throat. He staggered, eyes widening as energon spurted from the clean slice. The Star Saber had barely touched him, yet it had sliced through him as easily as air. Prima, as the bot had called himself, was already out of range of his snapping tendrils and fangs. For the moment, the Predaking forgot him as he was transfixed by the sight and scent of his own oozing blood.

No claw, fang, or beak could have pierced his armour without resistance. The Predaking shot a closer glance at the sword, but it did not look any sharper than his own tail blade. It must have been that mysterious and glowing, blue light. Energon ran down his chest, but the blade had been so sharp that he hardly felt the cut at all.

"What is this _magic_?" the Predaking growled.

Prima watched the Predaking carefully as he began to prowl and eye up the weapon.

"Nothing that you will ever have," Prima answered in the Predaking's language. "For you do not have the power."

"The power?" shrieked the Predaking. With that, he reared up on his hind legs and heated fire in his throat. As he stood tall over Prima, he unfolded his wings and spread them to block out the sun. "_This_ is power, the greatest in the world! Your weapon is powerful, but _you_ are _not_."

The Predaking bristled at Prima's unimpressed expression before blasting his fire. A cloud of orange engulfed the Prime, obscuring the Predaking's vision. Fire was all he saw before a silhouette rose, leaping through the inferno right at his face. Startled, the Predaking stumbled back on his hind legs, cutting off his fire to slash out with his front claws. Too swift, however, Prima slipped through his arms and flew past his cheek. With a _shing_, a long cut streaked upwards under the Predaking's eye toward his horns.

The Predaking fell onto all fours and spun around to meet his enemy. Prima's silver-white body glowed a slight orange from the fire, and the thinnest metal around his face was slightly melted. Despite the fresh cut, the Predaking growled a laugh. So the biped was like any other creature, with an inferior, metal pelt unlike the fire-resistant one of Predacons. Prima panted to cool his systems, but the Predaking was quickly disappointed to see the fierce determination in his eyes. His body and his face especially should have throbbed, yet Prima did not show any pain.

The Predaking was surprised that somehow, the biped had jumped so high. Still, he bared his teeth in an arrogant sneer.

"You missed my optic," he hissed.

"I did not," Prima responded. "I cannot miss what was not my target."

With a snort of disbelief, the Predaking charged with his wings extended. Predacons backed away to avoid being hit by them, thus expanding the battlefield. It was time to get serious. This Prima had grown tiresome with his individual name and arrogance. He thought he was special because of that blade, but he was merely an oversized biped no different than the one the Predaking had eaten.

Claws slashed and teeth bit relentlessly, chasing down the Prime. He reacted to each blow, dodging and whacking the Predaking with the flat of the sword. His huge teeth grazed by Prima each time as the Predacon's head was smacked left-and-right and occasionally cut. Prima did not want to go all out with the Star Saber, lest he kill the Predaking with a powerful sweep of its light. Nor did he want to win too quickly. He needed to fight to last so that the Predaking could slowly doubt himself, right until he grew fearful.

The Predaking was first surprised that the biped had the strength to strike away his head and claws. But since Prima was nicked again and again in this close combat, the Predaking grew only confident. So far, he was convinced that the sword held some sort of magic that kept the biped alive for so long. Prima would bleed like prey and get exhausted, and then the sword would drop from his grasp. Maybe the Predaking could even find a use for it to make himself stronger.

Since he had injured the Prime last time, the Predaking imagined that his fire attack would again be effective. He snapped up onto his back feet and shot a beam of deadly heat toward the Prime. Only this time, something changed. Before fire had the chance to scorch the ground, the two-legged shape blurred forward under him.

_How predictable_, Prima thought. He had led the Predaking to think that this was a good strategy. Now that his less-armoured underside was exposed, Prima darted in and thrust the Star Saber into his abdomen. But just as he yanked out the sword, he regretted instantly what he had done in the heat of the battle. This might have been too much.

The Predaking's eyes snapped open in shocked circles and he collapsed onto his side. The sword had punctured into his organs, and how vital they were he did not yet know. Even after the sword had been pulled out, he could still feel how it had entered him. Energon gushed out, but it was more than his own. His stomach and the other organs responsible for grinding and filtering his meals had been stabbed, and now all the energon he had consumed leaked out and mixed with his own blood. For a second, the Predaking felt his spark hammer in panic. He had not really understood what had just happened, how Prima had evaded his fire, and why his gut was now torn open. With all the blood, the Predaking suddenly thought that he would die. This terror dissipated when he smelled the biped's energon all over again, and realized that it was not all his energon, and perhaps this internal wound would not kill him.

The Predaking rolled onto his feet and shrieked in wrathful deviance. He would _not_ fall at the clawless hands of this biped, lying bloody and squirming like a pathetic creature. Once again he was upon Prima, all offensive with an unending flurry of attacks.

At the Predaking's comeback, Prima realized that he was going to have to step it up without harming him much more. The Star Saber struck out to parry each attack with no time for pause. The shock of each hit sent a tremor up Prima's arms, but he slashed out now and then to inflict a wound between the blocks. He nicked a circle of cuts all around the Predaking's left eye and added a hefty, diagonal cut that flashed across his muzzle and met up with the deep cut already on his cheek. Finally, the message was sent. He had proven that he was holding back, and could stab his eyes if he wanted to. And when Prima sliced shallower cuts over the Predaking's neck, he demonstrated that the sword _was_ capable of worse wounds, but Prima chose to hold back.

The Predaking flicked back his face to avoid being cut again. Even as he backed away from the sword, a flying edge of blue light sliced a horn. Slowly, he stepped back to stare in bewilderment at Prima. Why was the biped not using the full power of the sword? Why was he avoiding inflicting worse wounds than he could? It seemed like stupidity, but after the Predaking lunged and still barely injured the Prime, he gradually understood.

It was clear in the blaze of Prima's white eyes. The Predaking had seen lights in the torn chests of prey that had vanished when they died. That blindingly bright life force beguiled him, for as small as they were, the Predaking was chilled to the frame by how mysteriously strong they felt. Sparks. The Predaking too felt his own pulsing in his blood-soaked chest, but it looked as though Prima had sparks in his eyes.

It was not the sword that made him strong. He could have replaced it with any stray pole and went at Predaking relentlessly, striking until he fell. Reluctantly, the Predaking realized that this bipedal being was as potentially dominant as he was. If the Predaking was not careful enough to properly dodge, then he could be seriously wounded or killed in this fight. With his stomach aflame with pain, the Predaking drew back. His eyes lost their ferocity as they began to calculate and worry. What ought he do? A savage attack was not effective, and dive-bombing Prima would only expose his underside again. The Predaking could not think of a technique that went without risk. Trepidation marked his face as he wondered if there was any attack he could perform that would end this Prima menace.

When his movements became hesitant and the Predaking's facial expression changed, Prima knew that it was time. He and all Predacons were watching him with shock and fear. They knew he was more powerful than the mightiest of all the Predacons, and at that moment all were wondering if the Predaking was going to perish.

The orange wings of the Predaking twitched forward as he debated testing them for combat. Prima whirled and sent a blue wave of light from the Star Saber, which cut cleanly through a part of the wing's fabric. That idea was immediately erased from the Predaking's head as he screeched in pain. Before he could contemplate another approach, however, Prima spoke.

"Will you speak with me now?"

The Predaking's haunches lowered and he blinked blood from his eyes.

"What is this?" he panted. "You do not wish to finish the fight?"

"I am finishing it, now," Prima enunciated. "I came to send a message, not to kill you."

The Predacon onlookers sank low and craned their necks to better hear. At his confident and clear tone, they quivered from fearful respect.

"You are their leader," Prima continued. "The strongest as well."

The Predaking sank in exhaustion and relief, although he did not like admitting that he was relieved that the biped was open to reason and had stopped the fight. Now, he listened and did not think to correct Prima to say _king_ instead of _leader_.

"They saw what I could do to you. So, they know what I could do to them," Prima said. "But, I will leave the Predacons unharmed if they do one thing."

Prima paused, forcing the Predacons to anxiously wait for more. It compelled the Predaking to mutter, "What do you want from the Predacons?"

"A _promise_."

"I do not understand your language. What is that word you used?"

"You will tell me that you will do something, and then you will do it. Always, never once going against what you said."

The Predaking felt his wounds the more he lay there. He winced and asked again, "What is it, that you want the Predacons to do?"

"I said it before. Think, Predacon. Why did I come?"

He remembered all at once, after having momentarily forgotten the reason for the Prime's rage during the battle. Reluctantly, the Predaking looked over to the bipedal corpse a bit away behind Prima, which was barely more than four wings and a spine. The rest of the shredded body sat heavily and uncomfortably in his wounded gut now.

"You do not want the Predacons to eat any more of the bipeds."

Prima nodded once, holding severe eye contact with the Predaking.

The Predaking said, "Is this all you want from us?"

"It is. Live your own life, away from the bipeds. If you do not harm them, then I will not come back."

The Predaking blinked in disbelief. "This is all you want?" he repeated.

"It is not so easy," Prima uttered. His glowing eyes darkened with a threat. "You, as the leader, must control the Predacons. You cannot allow them to hunt the bipeds. If _this_ happens again, there will not be another message. I will return with others like me, and we will kill you and all the Predacons."

He went silent to let his words sink in. The audience cowered, eyes huge at the extremity of his threat. The Predaking too looked shocked as he said, "You are saying… if one Predacon kills a biped, then _all_ Predacons will be killed?"

"You Predacons only respect what you fear. So fear me, so much that you will never wish to hunt a biped. That the sight of them makes you want to fly or run away. For you will never know when I am watching you. I know your language, because I have been watching for a long time without ever being seen. I can be anywhere, everywhere. I know everything that happens on this planet."

Prima pointed at the Predaking.

"You are the Predaking."

He then began to point at individual Predacons around him.

"Twinstrike. Lazerback. Windrazor. Ripclaw. Fangblade. Darksteel. Skylynx. Divebomb. Backlash…"

As he announced fifteen more names, each indicated Predacon froze with a special, more personal fear. Prima truly did know everything, but since they could not understand how, he felt more and more like an omnipresent and omnipotent god.

Addressing the Predaking again, Prima muttered, "When new Predacons come to you, _you_ must teach them to fear me. Only their fear for you and me can stop them."

"I understand," the Predaking answered, trying to keep his voice steady despite his own shock about how much Prima knew about them.

"Say your _promise_ now: No Predacon will ever frighten, hunt, harm, or kill another biped again."

The Predaking's pelt prickled as he felt all Predacon eyes on him. Everyone that he had bullied into submission, who had seen him as the most powerful being on the planet, watched him being obedient to a smaller bot. He wanted Prima to leave already, and he longed to fly away then lie and suffer from his wounds in peace. All his life had been about dominance, so this was unbearably humiliating. Nevertheless, Prima's demands were not unreasonable. They still had a plethora of prey to choose from, and there was no actual consequence in avoiding the bipeds.

Thinking this made it easier to comply.

"The Predacons will never frighten, hunt, harm, or kill the bipeds," he promised, then added for the benefit of the other Predacons, "We will avoid them and hunt the other animals. We do not need to eat the bipeds to survive."

"The _other_ animals?" Prima's utter cut like a knife. "The bipeds are not _animals_."

The Predaking jerked at his sudden anger.

"Predacons are animals," Prima growled. "You may speak, but you are nothing like the bipeds. They are more intelligent than your kind, than all creatures on this world. They _build_. Even other animals create, but you destroy. _Alpha Trion_ wanted to help you. He thought you could learn, so he gave you an _ore_, Predaking. He was wrong to believe in you. You are too _primitive_, so instead you killed like you always do. There is nothing lower than your kind. I only _tolerate_ you, now, as a child of _Primus_."

The Predacons listened and tried to figure out the meaning of the non-Predacon words he had used. When they heard Primus' name again, they felt a chill.

"And perhaps, as a child of _Onyx Prime_. A child, that is _evil_ and should have never been forged."

The Predaking felt his frame tingle more as he heard the name Onyx Prime for the first time.

"I will leave you now," Prima uttered. "Never forget this day and your _promise_."

For Prima, time slowed from its normal rhythm. He was entering that realm of Deep Time again, where a second could become a year for him if he so desired. The field of Predacons and blood froze, everyone locked in place. Then in silence, Prima strolled up to the wings and spine of the devoured biped.

How he could have prevented this death, but in many ways he had chosen to let it happen. First, he had convinced Alpha Trion to let the T-Cog remain a secret. For the most part, it had been good. It kept the bipedal race closer together with no one straying too far too fast and into danger. They had developed so much together. Yet Prima knew that these triangular shapes on the biped's back were wings, although everyone else assumed that wings were only things that flapped. This dead biped could have transformed and flown to safety, if only he had known that he could.

But the worst thing Prima was guilty of was giving the Predaking a chance, although he had been devoid of hope for him. He had followed the Predaking, watched him terrorize the miners and snatch one of them. Prima had allowed the Predaking the opportunity to put down the miner, even though he knew that it was not going to happen. Prima let it happen because he also knew that one death was going to be necessary, before he could give the warning he had sworn he would give. In giving the Predacons a chance to choose their own path, he had essentially guaranteed that one single bot was going to die.

He scooped up the flier's remains and murmured, "You will find peace in the Allspark. Forget the pain of your time, and may you live a better second life."

Prima padded in the direction of the village that the flier had hailed from. To the Predacons, however, Prima had vanished completely without a warning, faster than they could blink. No one had been able to hear him at all, and no one even noticed the missing scraps of the dead biped he had taken with him.

* * *

_This being had had the presumption to have a name of its own, as he did. It called itself Prima and had used the stick to dish out a good deal of pain to the Predaking over the course of their first couple cycles of conversation. He could hardly believe that he was being given a beating by such an inferior being, but there was no denying it. This bot had a kind of Spark to it that the Predaking hadn't seen before, something that made it stronger, faster, more intelligent, and more, well, charismatic than it had any right to be. There was just something about its energy that demanded respect and asserted the need for obedience._


	6. Chapter 5: Rippersnapper

_Fortunately, the thing [Prima] was open to reason, and what it wanted was of no consequence. In exchange for assuring him that the Predacons would be leaving the miner-bot-things alone, Prima said that he would cause the Predaking no more trouble. At first he had suspected a ruse, but it proved a being of its word. The Predaking had not seen it or one like it since then._

* * *

Never before had the Predaking experienced such pain. It was after the battle, after the rush, when everything suddenly stiffened and burned. As he stalked away, he felt tightness increasing after every step until he finally lay down in the shelter of a gaping cave. Once he was down, he found that he did not have the energy to get back up. Since he was generally unfamiliar with being injured, the Predaking assumed that he would quickly recover after some rest. He didn't think he was so bad off, and when he could, he would muster up the strength to weld his gut then hunt.

Other Predacons did not want to disturb him, but Twinstrike and Lazerback hesitated before following his clear trail. The smaller Predacons padded up delicately toward the metal and rock-crusted cave, then peered into the darkness. His silhouette was highlighted by the yellow glow of his body and the energon drenching him. The Predaking, aware of his weakness, felt it best not to show it. Twisting his neck back, he growled a bluff warning.

They were taken back by his hostility to them. After glancing at each other, Twinstrike dipped his heads and murmured, "We aren't here to hurt you."

The Predaking's growls subsided. Now, he wobbled and unfolded a wing to cover his wounds. That alone took effort, and his vision blackened temporarily.

He blinked at their fuzzy shapes and muttered, "Why have you come?"

"To help you," Lazerback replied.

"I do not need help."

Twinstrike pressed, "You do. You bled so much."

"I need _no one's_ help!" the Predaking hissed. "That biped may have beaten me, but I am still the strongest Predacon. Leave me and let me rest."

"Do not rest," Twinstike persisted. "If you sleep, you might not wake up."

The Predaking pulled back his face's tendrils, baring his teeth.

"It is your gut wound," Lazerback said. "It is bad. We can try to close it…"

"I am not weak," he repeated. "That biped would have killed you."

"We do not think you are weak," Lazerback replied. "You are our king. We know this. So you will always be strong."

Twinstrike also tried to sway him, "Yes, not weak. You are injured, but not weak."

"It is the same…" the Predaking responded, but he did not growl when the others stepped up to him. He just kept his wing covering his lower neck and gut, hiding the wounds still leaking energon.

"It isn't the same," Lazerback lied. "You are still strong. You could defeat us too, now, if you wanted to."

The Predaking liked to hear that. At last, he conceded, "Yes. Then, I will allow you to close my wounds. But I will be watching you."

As vulnerable as he was then, Twinstrike and Lazerback did not feel the urge to attack him. They had been with the Predaking since their creation, and to imagine life without him terrified them. No proper word existed for _friend_ in their language, but they recognized their certain warm attachment to him. Lazerback's beak nosed under his wing, then the Predaking lifted it and tucked it out of the way. As he did so, he tried to put on a fierce face despite feeling relieved.

Twinstrike took over his abdomen, his two heads working in harmony to gently concentrate a smelting flame onto his wound. Lazerback began with his neck, and together, they would close all the cuts on his body. What couldn't be helped was the pain. Without anesthesia, the Predaking could only hiss and flinch as fire touched his more sensitive innards.

"Your organ is torn," Twinstrike apologized. "It is hard to close it…"

"But can you do it?" the Predaking asked.

"I think so."

The Predaking shut his eyes and tried not to display his worry. They knew that it was the organ that filtered his meals, and without it, he was not going to be able to process energon.

Lazerback hesitated, looking at the cuts on the Predaking's face. They were close to his eyes, and Lazerback wondered if the Predaking was going to trust him to be near them. He tentatively blew under his jaw and onto his cheek, but the Predaking did not negatively react. Lazerback felt safe to carry on, but he still avoided the eye area and left some of the smaller cuts open as a consequence.

He was done first, so he shuffled back to watch Twinstrike attentively managing the Predaking's gut wound. Eventually, the blue and golden-coloured Predacon withdrew and faced the Predaking's slitted gaze.

"It will heal," he said. "It is closed so it should… but I do not know if it will work well right now."

"But I need energon," the Predaking uttered.

Twinstrike said, "We will bring you something, but drink only the blood, my king. Do not eat it."

It was Twinstrike who skittered out of the cave while Lazerback stayed back to keep the Predaking awake. He lay alongside him although they had never done so before. Times had never felt so difficult, and Lazerback's fear of Prima's power left him in need of comfort as well. He lay his head over the Predaking's forearm, his tail curled around his own red and purple body. Again, he was not shoved away, although he was revealing some very un-Predacon-like fear.

The Predaking said, "The Predacons will survive."

"Yes," Lazerback breathed. "We do not need the bipeds. You were right; it is easy to eat other things."

"I will control the new Predacons."

"Of course. You always have, our Predaking."

A long pause passed as they waited for Twinstrike's return. The Predaking's long tail swished around to wrap along Lazerback's side, but the Predaking said nothing to accompany the gesture.

They heard Twinstike's noisy flapping before he crawled in with a sheepacron clamped between two mouths. He tore off its head and dropped it, then tilted the wire-fuzzy body toward the Predaking. Raising his neck, the Predaking bit into the mechanimal's torso and waited, letting the energon flow out its neck down into his throat. It was hard to resist the urge to tear and shallow the body, but the Predaking was surprised by how much more energon he was getting by not ripping it to pieces. Still, he missed having textures with his meals, from the crunch of metal to the softness of tubes breaking between his teeth.

Lazerback watched them, feeling cool relief as he munched on the sheepicron's head. It seemed now that the Predaking would fully recover with some time. Brightness returned to his eyes after he swallowed the fresh energon. It took some time to drink most of the blood, but in that time, his deficient body was already absorbing energy from it.

He put down the mechanimal and pushed it away, before looking benignly at Twinstrike and Lazerback.

"Can you bring me more?"

"Yes, anything," Twinstrike said. "Do you need something bigger? An Insecticon?"

"Yes, something with a lot of energon."

Twinstrike was still the fastest flier, thus he nodded to Lazerback so that he would stay back and keep an eye on the Predaking. It was fine now for the Predaking to sleep with some energon in him, since he seemed to be holding it. The two-headed Predacon darted out the cave, and their king curled into a large ball to finally rest.

* * *

Skystalker was trying to keep out of sight as he glared at the cave. Right after the Predaking had started to drag himself away, Skystalker had set a spontaneous plan in motion. Someone had come and severely wounded him, so like a proper opportunist, the vengeful Predacon knew that he had to act while the Predaking was so weak. He just had not wanted any trouble, but the two companions of the Predaking were refusing to leave him alone.

Twinstrike, a sort of lieutenant to the Predaking, had just flown in to bring a sheepicron to him. Skystalker did not think any of the first three Predacons remembered him, but to be safe, he ducked behind a barrier. If his plan failed, no one could know that he was responsible. Skystalker glanced back at the pack of two-legged ground Predacons stomping up to him, who looked only as though they were about to hunt. Twinstrike, especially as a larger and flying Predacon, had not registered their presence.

One of the squat Predacons, a blue one with a silver underside, lumbered up to Skystalker. He rumbled, "Those two will make this hard."

"You are more than twenty," Skystalker said. "Killing them all will be easy, now that they are trapped in that cave. The Predaking fights in the open- in there, he cannot use his wings. They are all bigger than you and will have difficulty, but you are all ground Predacons who hunt even _under_ground. Perhaps even your fire will be enough."

The leader of the pack grunted in agreement.

"But I have a better idea," Skystalker continued, "so that you lose less or none of your pack. That sheepicron will not be enough. The Predaking will want more, so we can wait until Twinstrike and maybe Lazerback too go out again to hunt."

"Yes, one less would be much easier."

The leader settled down onto the ground, and his pack members copied him, lying down to pretend to have nothing to do with the Predaking's cave. Checking around them, Skystalker saw the silhouette of another flying Predacon in the vicinity. For less witnesses, Skystalker decided it was time to take his leave.

"You will know the best time to attack," Skystalker purred humbly. "Your kind will have revenge for all that the Predaking has done to you. He will die from your fire and claws this day, and you will be the new king, Rippersnapper. Everyone will know and respect you and your mighty kind. For choosing to act now, all will know how intelligent you are."

Rippersnapper and his pack puffed out in pride. For too long, they had had the reputation of being the dumbest sub-species of Predacons, scorned by the draconic ones. Even Skystalker had thought the same, but now he knew that the brutes were just as speech-capable and intelligent as other Predacons. Regardless, he still saw them and all the other Predacons as vastly less intelligent than himself, easy to manipulate by playing with their emotions.

Skystalker flew away, deciding to keep back until he heard of the aftermath.

* * *

When Twinstrike departed, soaring away on another hunt, Rippersnapper was impressed by how Skystalker had predicted it. That Predacon was quite a useful individual, who he would love to keep at his side when he became the next king. Rippersnapper waited until he thought Twinstrike was out of earshot of the fight that was to come, before he rose to his feet. Once he did, his pack did the same.

"That _dolt_, Twinstrike, ignored us," Rippersnapper growled, and as a lover of insults, was always making up new ones that eventually got carried along into the Predacon language. "He does not think we are a threat…"

With a guttural roar, Rippersnapper headed the charge and thundered toward the cave. His deep cry was echoed by the others, shattering the peace and jolting the Predaking and Lazerback into raising their heads. The ground rumbled and the roars of the pack sounded like an earthquake splitting the land. The Predaking and Lazerback took a moment to realize that they were under attack, and they had only just made it to their feet before a wave of squat Predacons burst into the cave.

A wall of fire blasted toward them that was searingly powerful in their combined effort. Lazerback floundered and screeched in pain, crashing into the Predaking. But it was his hip he struck, for the Predaking was already on the move. Lowering his head, the Predaking charged the attackers with a nightmarish screech exiting his throat. Strength flooded back into his legs as he pounded forward, all the hatred within him chasing away the pain and fatigue. Upon hearing the terrifying screech, the pack stumbled pack, then the Predaking crashed through their fire.

He could not just lose to Prima. No, something had been gained: when his enemy underestimated him, he was going to face them head on and surprise them. He spread his arms and wings as much as he could, bowling into the front-runners and shoving them off their feet into the next row. Quickly, the Predaking realized that he could not let himself get trapped in the cave. His back legs shoved away the ground, launching him forward into the pack. His power was so unexpected that they cried out as they fell over each other, rolling and sliding into the open.

The Predaking was an unstoppable force with the fire of the sun in his eyes. His long front claws raked into the nearest bodies without mercy, separating faces and severing limbs. Those at the back bravely leapt, landing onto the Predaking's back to dig in their teeth. But his great wings snapped open, hurling him into the air so violently that most tumbled off. His tail lashed and struck off those remaining at his sides, then he spun a tight circle to throw Rippersnapper off his back.

They all landed on their comrades, flailing as they quickly tried to put their heavy bodies back on their feet. Lazerback froze at the cave entrance, jaw gaping as the Predaking released a shriek so earsplitting that it carried into the distance. He watched as his king threw himself right into the middle of the pack, to spin and become a storm of blades.

Energon splattered high, and within seconds, the Predacons realized that it was a futile effort to try to attack him. The Predaking drove his fangs into the front and back of necks, crunching through their thick armour and shaking their bodies until they fell limp. His claws, wings, and tail never stopped assaulting them, and one-by-one, the bodies were beginning to pile up. Although the Predaking had injured many Predacons before, he had never killed his own kind. Rippersnapper held his gushing chest, stumbling away and crying out to his followers.

"Flee!"

The Predaking snapped up his head at the unmistakable command of a leader. With a fresh shriek, he leapt over all of the pack and pinned Rippersnapper under his claws. The stocky Predacon writhed and snapped before the Predaking sank his teeth into his face. At once, the pack of Predacons froze, gawking as the Predaking then twisted and tore off Rippersnapper's head.

The Predaking quivered and stared down at the dead Predacon with fiery hatred. Then, hardly thinking, the Predaking tore into him, swallowing his energon and consuming his body. Horrified, the pack whimpered and started off running. That was when Lazerback charged in, his back lifting to activate his unique weapon. Lazer beams struck each one in the back or legs, felling them, so that Lazerback could rush in and finish them off. The Predaking turned an eye on him, then was pleased when Lazerback assured that there were no survivors.

Gripping Rippersnapper's body, the Predaking continued his grisly feast. Lazerback stalked up to him, merely muttering, "Only the energon, Predaking. We do not think you can have the metal."

The Predaking spat out a piece of tube and looked up as Twinstrike and other Predacons flew in, having been attracted by his battle shriek. They landed, staring in shock at the many mangled bodies and the one being devoured.

"_No one_ challenges me," the Predaking growled over Rippersnapper to them. "They thought that they could defeat me because I was wounded. They thought that I was weak."

He leapt up to his feet and flared open his wings. Even Twinstrike tripped backwards with the others, afraid that his unbelievable strength was about to be turned on them.

"I am the first and most powerful of all Predacons! No one will _ever_ take my place!" He prowled at them with swift, terrifying steps. All but Twinstrike scattered, flapping frantically away from his blood-strained fangs. "If anyone dares challenge me again, they will _perish _by my claws! By the claws of your _king_!"

The Predaking glared, satisfied, as they fled to where the other Predacons were. News of his slaughter would be heard, and despite being injured after suffering defeat against Prima, everyone would fear him. That was how it should be. Through fear, they would follow him and dare not attack him again.

He did not realize that he owed his win to Twinstrike and Lazerback, who had closed his wounds and given his body some energon to work with. Now, he believed that he was so incredibly powerful that he had only needed rage to get back on his feet. Twinstrike and Lazerback were aware that they had saved him, yet neither of them thought of pointing it out when there was nothing to gain.

The Predaking whirled around and seized Rippersnapper again, lifting him like he had to the sheepicron so that the energon flowed into his throat. Only now, there was much more energon, more than enough to replace what he had lost. It spilled from the corners of his mouth and from the cuts in Rippersnapper's body, but it was of no waste. Lazerback and Twinstrike watched, wide-eyed, and the only words that could come up between them came from Twinstrike.

"Well," Twinstrike chuckled out of nervousness. "I guess you won't need that Insecticon anymore..."


	7. Chapter 6: Skylynx and Darksteel

For the next hundred years, the Predacons accepted that although the Predaking had lost to Prima, he was still much more powerful than them. With the fear floating distantly above their lives, the Predacons kept their heads low and let the Predaking continue to act as their ruler.

Still, the Predaking fought anyone who seemed to be becoming stronger. While he was resented, the Predaking knew that control had to be maintained in order to protect his race from extermination. Another leader, who had not faced Prima's might themselves, might not take enough care into upholding the Oath.

That was what it had become known as to everyone, the term developing in both the Cybertronian and Predacon languages. The Oath, the thinnest blanket of fear that lay over all the Predacons. At this time, even Skystalker was afraid to come to close to bipedal settlements or work sites. The races had to live their own separate lives, never interacting.

But it was the responsibility of the Predaking to teach the fear to the new generation of Predacons. He spent more time in the vicinity of the Well of Allsparks, sending in underlings or going in himself to round up the new Predacons and teach them their short history. But there were so many Predacons now that they spread, beginning to claim pieces of land as their own. The hold of the Predaking's kingdom was loosening as a consequence, no matter how fearsome he tried to be.

One day, Skylynx lay alongside Darksteel and muttered, "You know, Emberclaws is already gone. The Predaking did not even notice or do anything. We ought to get out ourselves."

The two had been some of the first challengers of the Predaking, before he began killing his enemies. That felt so long ago, before they had even had names, but a dull hatred still existed.

"Yeah," Darksteel agreed. "A place for ourselves, away from everyone else."

"I am bored of here anyway," Skylynx continued. "And sick of hearing the Predaking's screeching. Let us try living somewhere else, where it is quieter and there is more food."

"Where?" Darksteel got up to his feet. Predacons weren't ones to linger on ideas; if something was to happen, they committed. "What other places are there?"

"I am not sure," he replied, also rising. "We have never travelled outside our domain before. Never had to until now."

Darksteel shook his wings out eagerly. "I heard there are places full of wind. Going there would be exciting, wouldn't it?"

"Any change would be. Now, let us see what is out there!"

Skylynx growled and charged ahead, flapping his wings and lifting off. Following his bobbing form, Darksteel took off after him and trilled in excitement. They swerved, heading southwards where they had heard rumors of the winds. Adventure and departure from the dull routine of their lives made their sparks pound. They rose over other flying Predacons, higher and higher into the clouds where they blasted out puffs of fire in joy. Hardly anyone gave them any attention, and no one came after them.

They were free.

The wind and the sun caressed their bodies. In bliss, the two Predacons flew for hours and played in the sky on their journey. Darksteel plummeted and soared through a flock of birds, laughing when they broke apart to avoid him. One fluttered up near Skylynx's face, and he couldn't help but snap it between his beak to eat it up on the fly.

Reminded, Skylynx called down to his friend, "Do you want to pause and hunt?"

"Later- I'm impatient to get there!"

Since they didn't know where "there" was, they rested eventually in the middle of the night. Together, they took down a cybertiger and shared it under the stars. In all of their lives, there had hardly been a time where they hadn't hunted together. They had been forged at the same time, and since then, had not separated. Skylynx's fanged and pointed beak got into tight spaces and tore up their prey for both of them. Darksteel's beak was quite wide but not as sharp, yet he could swallow up more faster than Skylynx's tight mouth could. So once Skylynx had opened up and divided the animal, Darksteel slowly ate so that Skylynx would have enough too.

In the open field, they curled up into two balls with their wings collapsing over each other. Darksteel sleepily sighed, "I wonder how far the horizon goes. Where does the world end?"

"I think it is very far," Skylynx answered. "We might have to fly like this every day for a season."

Predacons were aware of years, based on the cycle of seasons in their northern domain where there were colder times and warmer ones, times of shorter days or shorter nights. But none of them understood the size of their planet yet or that it was round.

"I want to live at the edge," Darksteel said. "I don't think any Predacons live there, but there must be animals. Animals have been spreading for a much longer time."

"I wonder what it will look like…" Skylynx murmured as his eyes closed.

Darksteel said, "Maybe the world will be a different colour."

"I hope so."

Falling silent, they slumbered until the morning. Their excitement rose them, and after briefly stretching their wings, they repeated what they had done yesterday. It was evening was when they noticed a wind picking up, pushing against them. First, Darksteel had been glad to have something new, a resistance to fight through. Over time though, it became tiring to have to fight it head on.

They squinted and persevered, until Skylynx peered down and gasped, "Is that a Predacon?"

Darksteel looked and spotted a winged shape walking on a hill upon two legs. This Predacon saw them too, then rose to meet them. They didn't think a Predacon smaller than them would reach them so fast, but he did. His sharp, blue wings sliced through the air until the red-bodied Predacon was flying alongside them.

"Where are you heading?" the unknown Predacon asked.

"Far away," Skylynx answered. "To find new hunting grounds for ourselves."

"You won't get far," the bird-like Predacon answered. "You will soon reach the Winds."

Darksteel asked, "What's that?"

"It is an impenetrable wall of winds. You can't get through it. They are more powerful than anything else you have experienced before."

"We can push through it," Darksteel chuckled.

"You don't understand. It is a storm that never ends. It catches Predacons in the air, trapping them and spinning them until their wings tear off. There is thick dust, so you cannot see anything. It is possible to walk, but you will be disorientated. You will be lost until you starve, likely. No Predacon that has tried walking has made it back. The Winds consume them."

Skylynx and Darksteel gawked at him.

"Surely, someone has made it?" Skylynx inquired. "If they made it through, they might have carried on. They wouldn't have turned back."

"Maybe."

When the Predacon banked, they followed him. The stranger led them into a cave near the ground, sheltered in the lee of the wind. Darksteel and Skylynx were surprised when they got inside, when suddenly they could hear better and move more freely.

"Rest; I can tell you are not used to flying in high-speed winds." The two-legged Predacon folded his wings and walked off into the cave.

The two lay down, but Darksteel looked to Skylynx. "I want to continue. I think we can make it."

"It's your choice," the red and blue Predacon said while returning. "I won't stop you."

He dragged out a tungsten turkey from a storage hole, laying it down in front of them.

"My name is Divebomb. I live here with others in this area, but Windrazor is our leader. Who are you?"

Before introducing themselves, Skylynx blabbered, "_Leader_?"

It was a risky concept, to claim to be a leader with the Predaking around. It was suicidal, but Divebomb nodded.

"We do not have to follow the Predaking this far. He does not come here, so he does not lead us."

"What about the Oath?" Skylynx blinked.

"We follow it, without needing someone bullying us into it."

Darksteel admitted, "We were looking for a place away from him, but also for adventure. I want to go _beyond_ the Winds, to see what is there. We'll be the first to do so too!"

He puffed up. Divebomb lifted his arms in a shrug.

"We will one day too. If you make it, we will see you there."

"My name is Skylynx," Skylynx finally replied to his question. "He is Darksteel."

Finally, they began dividing up the tungsten turkey.

"I've never seen a Predacon store food," Darksteel commented.

"I don't see why not," Divebomb replied. "The energon doesn't go bad, even if it crystallizes over time. It is not a bad idea to have a bit stored just in case."

"In case of what?" Skylynx asked.

"Not a lot of living creatures come here, so there are some bad hunting days. But it is a good home, where we have been honing our strength in the windy environment. We are learning how to understand the wind currents, how to ride the wind and storms like no one else can."

Darksteel and Skylynx blinked, yellow eyes bright as they listened to his interesting life.

After the meal, they rested comfortably in the shelter of the cave. It was so nice to be inside instead of out, now that they felt in their sparks that the life of riding the wind was not for them. Divebomb's life sound exhilarating, but honestly it was a lot of struggle, and it wasn't for everyone. Two-legged instead of four, a Predacon like him was not burdened with the extra weight. Most importantly, his wings were stronger being attached to his arms.

They slept extremely well with the Predacon's surprising hospitality. They were given another cold meal, but they did not dare complain. As long as they had extra energy for when they were in the thick of the wind storm. If they had to travel far, there was no knowing when they could refuel again. Once they had finished, they restarted their journey into the harsh wind with Divebomb following them.

A Predacon with a green and white body appeared in front of them. His wings were purple, and Skylynx and Darksteel were shocked at the sight of his equally purple eyes. They had seen hundreds of Predacons, but never one with that eye colour before. He zipped around them, joining Divebomb to ask about the two Predacons.

"Skylynx and Darksteel will walk into the storm," he explained.

He introduced himself as Windrazor, the leader of the splinter domain of two-legged, flying Predacons. While his eyes looked predatory, his voice as sharp as his wings and talons, Windrazor kindly wished them luck.

The two-legged Predacons left as the winds grew stronger and stronger. Skylynx and Darksteel turned their heads and landed, squinting into the gusts of sand.

"Step-by-step," Skylynx assured him. "Our new home will be over there."

"The edge of the world," Darksteel agreed. "We will never see it unless we go through."

They marched forward steadily, not knowing how long they would have to go. Gradually, the wind blew harder, and increasingly more grit came flying at them. The Predacons dug in their claws and proceeded despite the punches of gravel and metal bits that struck their hides. Their eyes stung, though they slitted them and tried to stare down at their own claws.

"We are doing great!" Skylynx called out to him.

He didn't catch Darksteel's reply in the rising volume of the storm. They pressed on, feeling it getting harder and harder to place one foot in front of the other. Were they facing mere winds, or the Winds yet? They did not know, after hours of walking, but what was certain was that they were getting scared. But admitting fear was not the Predacon way, which cursed them to carry on into danger although both desperately wanted to get out of there.

Skylynx and Darksteel saw only beige as the Wind howled like a chorus of screaming Predacons. Sides touching, they clawed forward and shivered from how voice-like the Wind sounded, as though it was the dead collectively wailing. Something metal tumbled into the air above them, pieces of a body trapped in the swirling air. Neither of them noticed it, but another piece of a creature struck Darksteel in the shoulder.

He twitched in fear. As much as he tried to dig in his claws, he felt his body slowly being pulled upwards. Skylynx also felt himself lifting, but he did not want to be the one to force them to abandon their goal. With sparks and bodies shaking, they fought on, wings vibrating and Skylynx's tail waving against his will.

A powerful gust struck them, and both squawked and went sliding back over the metal ground. They separated, and for a moment, Darksteel's rear detached in the ground. His legs kicked the air frantically before he came down, buffeted from another direction. Skylynx spun and scraped the metal, screeching at the sudden worsening of the weather. There was absolutely nowhere to go, no shelter to shield them. They were trapped in the middle of the plains and were not even in the heart of the storm.

Fresh winds came shrieking toward them, blowing rock and dirt that pelted the Predacons. Bodies of smaller creatures swirled in the air above them as Skylynx and Darksteel clung for dear life. Both their minds throbbed in white-hot fear, burning with the thought that if they let go, they would be torn into the sky and ripped apart by the Wind as Divebomb had described. It would consume them, holding them here like the other corpses that were spinning around them.

They were sliding again.

Skylynx tried to call out encouragement to him, but his voice was whipped away. He creaked open his eyes and saw Darksteel, then he fought to edge closer to him. Another violent wind slapped them from the left, carrying Darksteel across the metal sheet toward a patch of rock. When he struck it, he lost the secure hold he had on the metal. Without even hearing his cry of panic, Skylynx watched Darksteel be sucked away, yanked into the sky to vanish into the blinding storm.

"Darksteel!" he shrieked.

Skylynx's claws unhooked, and in an instant, he was whipped away in the direction Darksteel had gone. And just as instantaneously, he lost all sense of direction. Skylynx wailed as he spun head over tail, wings bent and useless as he was carried through the open air. There was no knowing which way was up, which way was down. His legs churned and stretched, seeking Darksteel but only feeling the sand and emptiness of the air. His body was spun around and around, circling a twister that perhaps did not even contain Darksteel as well. His head swirled from dizziness, and his wings were caught by the winds and pulled.

Joints burning and being stretched, Skylynx wailed again.

"_Darksteel_!"

The dizzier he got, the less he could feel himself. His consciousness seemed to be detaching and floating outside his body. His legs went limp and flopped to the will of the storm.

A colossal weight crashed into him. Skylynx yelped and grabbed it, eyes widening and accepting the sting of the grit just for a moment of sight. Darksteel scrambled, twisting around to cling onto him. The Predacons pressed their wings tight to each other and plummeted with their combined weight. They tumbled out the swirling winds and finally struck the ground again, seeking metal in which to sink in their claws.

They could not have been able to hear each other, but without trying to speak, they turned and began heading in the direction they hoped was safest. If it was the way to the other side, good, but if they came back to the northern territories, that was just as fine. So long as they survived. All they could do was pray that they weren't clawing sideways into the storm, going nowhere and exhausting themselves.

The wind lessened. Weight was coming back to their legs. As tired as they were, their fear and hope pushed them onward. They were escaping the storm. Darksteel and Skylynx began to pelt once they felt sturdy enough, fleeing the edges of the Wind toward the familiar land they had seen hours before. Sometimes the winds swirled around against them, but when the winds pushed them forward, they dared fly to catch that extra quick distance toward true freedom.

Windrazor spotted the Predacons and swept down toward them.

"Are you alright?" he gasped.

They were littered with so many small scratches that their armour looked whiter. The two Predacons quaked, eyes huge from the horror they had experienced. They followed the feathered and wyvern-like Predacons, this time staying in the cave of Windrazor to accept his hospitality.

"What was it like?" the purple-eyed Predacon chittered gently.

As sharp as everything on his body was, the two Predacons took comfort from him. His glaring eyes looked softer when they took the time to stare into their purple depths.

"It came from all sides," Skylynx explained. "It got worse suddenly, going under us and lifting us up. Without a hold on metal, we were taken into the storm."

"You lost hold of the ground?" Windrazor gasped.

"We almost died," Darksteel murmured, no flicker of amusement on his normally cheery face. "We were separated, but when we found each other, we got out."

"You are very, very lucky." Windrazor bobbed his head.

He offered them food, but they declined, instead wanting nothing else but to flop down to rest. Once Windrazor had left to hunt for himself, leaving them alone in the cave, they spoke to each other.

"That will _never_ be worth it," Skylynx growled softly.

"Life was not that bad with the Predaking," Darksteel said. "I don't want to risk my life to leave. I'll be fine not seeing the other side, if at least I can live to enjoy this one!"

"... I was terrified," Skylynx admitted.

"Me too."

"I was _very _scared." Skylynx shook himself out. "But I was too hesitant to say it. I thought you would judge me."

"I was thinking the same." Darksteel chuckled softly. "That was stupid. We should have said something."

Skylynx restarted, "I have never felt so afraid in my life. What I mean to say is, I was not only afraid of my death, but when you were lost to the storm, I was afraid that you would perish and I would have to live without you. That is why it is not worth it. It is not worth taking such risks if I could lose you or you could lose me. You and I have been together for so long. I do not know what I would do without you."

Darksteel paused, glancing up into his eyes. "I feel the same. Let's never try this again. Let's just go back north, home…"

"We'll find a place up there," Skylynx vowed. "There has to be some good land far enough from the Predaking's. Someplace quiet, sunny…"

Darksteel nodded along and placed his head against his flank.

"And full of food," Darksteel concluded.

"Exactly. Tomorrow, we will find our true home, brother."

They tried to have a long, deep rest, but Skylynx's nightmare of the incident kept him up, and his dream-twitching tail kept poking Darksteel awake.


	8. Chapter 7: Hun-Grrr

_Energon came in many forms and was relatively abundant as it leaked from Primus's core. It lay in the ground in crystalline form that could be mined, but also was refinable from liquid metal pools or from the gaseous eruptions and the pits of murky salts that dotted the landscape. There was no niche for its exploitation that was not thoroughly filled by one bot or another, and they in turn were prey or farm beasts for those who had no abilities to gather raw Energon for themselves. To replace the dead, the Well ejected more forms, more Sparks, and sometimes threw up fresh creations of its own._

* * *

Skylynx and Darksteel spent a few years of their lives exploring the northern lands of the Predaking. More and more Predacons continued to pour out into the world, and now, one could not often look in any direction and not see a Predacon flying there in the distance. Fights with other Predacons became a daily experience for Skylynx and Darksteel, but they grew tougher from it. Yet because their kind was beginning to get strict about personal space, they knew that they better stick to a land and befriend some allies.

At that time, they were at the northern pole of Cybertron. The bipedal race called the area "the Plains of Iacon", but the Predacons knew it as "the Cold Lands". It was not unbearably cold, since even the less resilient bipeds had built settlements in the area. What was attractive about the Plains of Iacon was the amount of surface and near-surface energon that attracted all forms of Cybertronian animals. Darksteel and Skylynx had entered the area to enjoy the riches, only to be attacked by other Predacons also arriving for the same purpose.

Together, they beat back the rival Predacons, but they were unaware that they were being watched. After they huffed and turned, they noticed the silhouettes of four Predacons on the ground in the distance. Skylynx and Darksteel bristled, expecting trouble, but one of the Predacons broke away from the others and calmly approached them on foot.

"Newcomers," the blue Predacon greeted them. "My name is Skystalker. Are you interested in settling in this area?"

The two were surprised by his openness. Darksteel answered, "Yeah. We are."

"Good, I could use strong fighters like you two. You see, this land is starting to be seen as valuable. If we band together, we could defend it better. Each of you could claim a piece of land as your own, and if you are loyal to me, then I will allow you to have a share in my Insecticon _farm_."

"Land?" Skylynx responded, then repeated the strange word, "_Farm_?"

"An area that I maintain. I attract Insecticons to it, allow them all the energon they could ever want, and pick off a few whenever I am in the mood. Always available, rather docile. They pay no attention to Predacons."

"So this is your domain," Skylynx confirmed. "Risky, is it not? Do you not fear attracting the Predaking's attention?"

Skystalker's face wrinkled up in irritation. "The Predaking," he growled. "No. He should not bother us so long as we act like a band without leaders. And if we keep our distance from the bipeds."

"So you don't like him either?" Darksteel chuckled.

"Only the second and third Predacons like him," Skystalker muttered. "No one is pleased to live under his strict rule."

Skystalker was testing them, wondering if they were ready to hear more about his desire to kill the Predaking. He decided that the first meeting would not be the time.

"Come, meet the others. We can help you find pieces of land that you may call your own."

They liked him immediately, although none of them remembered that he was one of the first challengers to the Predaking. Likewise, Skystalker did not remember these two as the leaders of a group who had tried to take on the Predaking in the air. He was interested in allies, thus gave Skylynx and Darksteel all that the average Predacon could want. The two took neighbouring pieces of land in the western Plains of Iacon, but as part of the Iaconian Predacon band, they could pass through other lands so long as they were respectful.

"Finally, a place of our own," Skylynx said that night, while curling into Darksteel under an outcrop.

"We went the wrong way when we first set out, didn't we?"

"Indeed. We were so eager to get away from the Predaking, but we did not truly have to go far to do so."

They explored each other's pieces of land thoroughly, marvelling at the richness in biodiversity and sights. They even passed over the lands of the other Predacons to visit Skystalker's farms, receiving no hostility. They met some ground Predacons of the band: Cindersaur, Blight, and Rot Gut. Closer to Skystalker seemed to be his closest allies, fliers called Backbite, Red Fang, Scourge, and a notable, powerfully built Predacon named Azure. While friendly to Darksteel and Skylynx, there was a ferocity inside them all that was turned, fortunately, only on enemy Predacons.

The better they got to know them though, the more Skystalker and his friends became terrifying. Backbite was sneaky, but his abilities did not match the others. Red Fang's bites burned foes with acid, Scourge was three-headed, and Azure seemed just as large and powerful as the Predaking. That silver Predacon had a striking miscolouration in the eyes, for while her body glowed yellow, her eyes were green. This made it confusing, because her name referred to blue instead of that green.

Her secret had been in her full name: Azureflame. But to keep her ability a surprise, she had cut off the second half of her name due to a suggestion from Skystalker. The blue fire she breathed was hotter than any other known Predacon's, so hot apparently that it could easily burn through a Predacon's metal with ease. Her teeth would retract to protect them, but to use the fire too long would damage her own mouth.

Azure was the sun's fire, but Skystalker was the cold of space. His secret ability was rarely seen or disclosed, but Skylynx and Darksteel got to learn of it. He was a Predacon and the only they had ever heard of, who had a chilling breath that could freeze and damage foes outside and in. It caused nerves to numb, joints to lock, and blood to solidify. His prey were incapacitated immediately, and his enemies were left dragging their limbs and crying out in pain. If the intelligence of that Predacon hadn't chilled them already, then his cruel power did.

But years passed, more new Predacons were recruited, and Darksteel and Skylynx stopped being wary of them. Home felt secure, and it was. They lived two centuries in the Plains of Iacon, growing stronger while the other Predacons of Cybertron grew more harsh in the competition for space and food. Even when the Predaking had flown into the area many times, he never caused them any trouble.

For once the Predaking had glimpsed the farms, he was inspired to create his own. Despite popular belief, he was not always cruel for cruelness' sake. He did not want to steal Skystalker's land unprovoked, and the Predaking wanted a project to occupy himself. He, Twinstrike, and Lazerback started collecting energon and searching for near-surface energon by burning the ground. Creating trails and opening up pits, the three eventually managed to attract creatures. First, they had been too eager and killed them, scaring them away. It took patience to bribe the creatures with so much easy energon that they did not mind the occasional, quick disappearances of members of their own kind.

Farming, just like healing wounds with fire, had been another idea originating from Skystalker that he would never get credit for. The practices merely spread across their race, although only the older Predacons with secure territories could enjoy the fruits of farming. New Predacons bitterly stalked the world, often not welcome any place they went. Skylynx and Darksteel had avoided that fate, but there were thousands who struggled from their creation at the Well of Allsparks. They slunk into the tunnels if they were ground Predacons, expanding their race deeper and further into the world. Some flew without stopping, chased by territorial Predacons day and night until they reached far lands west or east in the northern hemisphere. So far, they could go around the storm at the equator and enter the barely populated paradise of the southern hemisphere.

Those Predacons had escaped the Predaking's rule, and the Predaking was sharply aware of it. But to chase them would take him too far from his domain, and it would take too much time to hunt each one down. And he knew nothing about the south, for he had never seen beyond the Delta Winds, simply called "the Winds" in their language. It caused him to worry, to wonder if they would keep the fear of Prima in their sparks and stay away from the bipeds in his absence.

He knew that Predacons were slowly starting to lose their fear of Prima. Hundreds of years had passed without sight or sound of him or the others like him that he had warned them of. New Predacons who had not seen the Predaking's defeat could not take Prima seriously. His powers seemed too mythical, and they laughed at the idea that a biped had defeated the Predaking in combat.

"What does that say about our _mighty_ leader?" they might titter.

And a response would be, "That he is not mighty at all."

Still, they told themselves that it wasn't worth attacking the bipeds. They looked weak, while there were better things to hunt. Without the _what if?_ concept of Prima's wrath, however, they might have killed bipeds by now just out of curiosity.

* * *

It was the fifth century of Predacon existence on Cybertron. Small kingdoms of bipeds had been established, and their own rivalries had begun. In battles of swords, bows, and primitive blasters, bodies crumpled on Cybertron. Predacons hung back, watching like hesitant vultures, wondering if the bodies temporarily left behind by fleeing armies could be theirs. Just a taste, of forbidden prey.

Hun-Grrr was a two-headed brute of the newest wave of Predacons. Red and heavy, he stomped his way from territory to territory, killing as much as he could as an addict of consumption. Mostly, he loved the way things tore between his snapping heads, the different textures of body parts, and the subtle, varying tastes in energon among species. He was so obsessed that he barely thought of anything else. Barely educated, Hun-Grrr knew few words and had chosen his own name. He was not even aware that he was mispronouncing the word _hunger_, and he was too dumb to recognize it even after hearing other Predacons repeat the word.

So it was destined that he would be the first Oath-breaker.

Hun-Grrr did not hold back when he saw the first bodies of soldiers. He did not know the Oath well, and he did not have the imagination to imagine Prima, a bipedal warrior of light whose sword could slice through mountains. Other Predacons watched, aghast, as Hun-Grrr marched through fallen swords and arrows to gobble up body after body. They wondered, _Is this breaking the Oath? _No Predacon could frighten, hunt, harm, or kill a biped. Hun-Grrr was not able to frighten, harm, or kill bipeds that were already dead. But what did hunting mean? Was hunting only when one went after something living and killed it?

Had they discovered a loophole to the Oath, and a way to satisfy their curiosity?

They waited, no one reporting the event to the Predaking. They waited, and Prima never came after Hun-Grrr or their kind. The next time they witnessed a battle, they crawled into the battlefield after and feasted on the bodies.

The truth was that there was nothing phenomenal about how they tasted. The Predaking had learned that long ago. But the thing was, when it had been forbidden for so long, the Predacons tricked themselves into believing that the energon tasted better than it actually did. They adored it, and started bragging about what they had done to others. More and more Predacons began hoping for another battle between kingdoms, forgetting their rivalries for that moment.

Twinstrike reported in to the Predaking.

"My king, something dangerous has begun." He crashed down to the ground and folded his wings into his body.

"What is it?" the Predaking rose to his full height.

"I heard rumors from the East, that Predacons have eaten the bodies of bipeds who died in combat."

"_What_?"

"It seems to be true."

"Something must be done. They are tempting Prima's wrath! If he sees Predacons developing a taste, he might exterminate us before we even have a chance to break our promise. Twinstrike, there is no choice. I must confront those Predacons and kill them."

"Yes. It is too dangerous."

"Take charge with Lazerback, Backlash, Fangblade, and Ripclaw and punish anyone who acts suspicious in my absence."

"You will go alone?"

"I will invoke more fear if I handle this myself."

The Predaking also thought himself as the fastest flying Predacon, so he knew they would slow him down even if he wanted them to come along. He took off at once, leaving his farms to fly for days with little rest. He demanded information out of resident Predacons wherever he went, to point himself the right way. Finally, he figured out which kingdoms were said to be at war, and he searched the area.

Yet news of his arrival had somehow made it ahead of him, and the guilty Predacons abandoned the area. All except the dumbest of the bunch, Hun-Grrr, who had been circling a castle's walls for hours. He had the vague idea that if he wasn't fast enough getting in, they would hurt him and get away. But ever since he had tasted cold bodies, he desperately wanted to try them warm. The wall guards were uneasy, pointing their mounted crossbows and blasters at him and praying that the red Predacon wouldn't charge or burn through their walls. They didn't want to provoke the Predacon into attacking them, since they weren't sure how hard or easy it was to kill one of those things.

When the Predaking spotted Hun-Grrr troubling the kingdom, he dropped down from the sky with an ear-splitting screech of rage. His wings cracked like thunder, the orange undersides flashing like hellish lightning. The guards saw the monstrously huge Predacon diving straight at them, shrieking unintelligibly, and they panicked. All their weapons were spun and raised to target the Predaking, then they fired at once.

Blasts and steel arrows ripped into him, tearing clean through his wings and penetrating his chest. Never had the Predaking imagined that their weapons could be so powerful, but it had been a long time since he had paid attention to bipedal developments. They were much more technologically advanced now. The barbed tips caught in his metal, and his blood burst out from plentiful holes in his chest and arms. He swerved, shocked and shrieking, but the kingdom was used to war. They quickly adjusted their aim and accurately fired at him again.

The Predaking rolled and screeched, but he had been coming in too fast to stop himself even as they attacked him. His body crashed into the rampart, his waving wings striking a few soldiers off the walls on either side. Quickly realizing where he was among the screaming bipeds, the Predaking scrambled onto his feet and tried to watch his claws. However, his spark was already pounding.

_I have frightened them. Although accidentally, have I broken the Oath?_

Prima forgive him. He had not killed them, but had it been clear that he hadn't wanted anything to do with them? Or was his accident enough to bring upon his race's extinction?

Inside the castle grounds, chaos was ensuing after the guards had fallen upon others. The Predaking froze in the eyes of so many frightened bots packed in a trading area. Then, he snapped his head around at fresh screams coming from outside the wall. Some of the bipeds had fallen outside, right in front of Hun-Grrr. The Predaking looked over the wall just as Hun-Grrr snatched one of the bots and ran. The teeth of his head crunched a secure hold into the bot's gut, but he did not stop to eat him now with a clearly furious Predacon monarch after him. Hun-Grrr charged on as fast as a pudgy grounder could, searching for a tunnel opening to escape into.

When the Predaking sprang off the wall, he shoved through two mounted blasters and broke them. They dangled on wires as he soared after the fleeing Predacon. Neither Hun-Grrr nor the Predaking were far from the castle when the flying Predacon swiftly overtook the running one. Under his claws, Hun-Grrr was ripped to shreds by the Predaking. First, the neck of the head holding the biped was sliced off. After that, it was a slaughter as Hun-Grrr's body parts were torn off in no particular order.

Once he had taken out his fury upon him, the Predaking turned to the biped. He pried him free from Hun-Grrr's teeth, only to discover that he was no longer moving. The bot did not run away, but lay dead at the Predaking's feet.

The Oath had officially been broken in the worst way possible. A Predacon had killed one of Prima's people.

"No, _no_!" the Predaking roared at Hun-Grrr's body. "You fool! You have doomed us all!"

Fire flared up in the Predaking's throat before he blasted the mangled Predacon. Yet he did not have time to smelt him into the ground, for guards once again covered the walls and began to fire upon the Predaking. He did not count it as cowardice when he flew from them, since it was a battle he could never partake in. Pained and frightened, the Predaking flapped away and shivered as he wondered how he would tell his people what had happened, that because of one gluttonous Predacon, they were all going to die.


	9. Chapter 8: Grimwing

It had happened minutes after Hun-Grrr had killed the soldier. Far away, light poured from the Well, stretching up to the sky as it lifted up new life. Two groups watched carefully at a slight distance, waiting to see to whom the lifeforms would belong. One group comprised the Predacons headed by Ripclaw, one of Predaking's closest officers, who often was in charge of gathering the new Predacons and ushering them away. The other group came from a faraway kingdom, waiting to see if they would collect new citizens that day.

Everyone was shocked at the appearance of two tall figures entering the scene. Bipeds dipped their heads; the Predacons' eyes snapped open before they lay down, bellies to the ground. Prima walked at Alpha Trion's side closer to the blindingly bright Well of Allsparks. In the past, they had watched all forms of life emerge from the hole, but they had stopped once the Age of Evolution plateaued. Both were here only because Alpha Trion had foreseen something interesting in the future pages of the Covenant.

For centuries, the Well had been producing Predacons and bipeds regularly. But this day marked a historic occurrence never before seen. Four lifeforms were brought up to the near surface, before finding their strength and clinging onto the ridge. The first three were bipeds, climbing up to stand on their feet, but the fourth was a massive Predacon that crawled up behind them. Never had a Predacon been forged at the same time as bipeds. Prima grasped the Star Saber, ready to race ahead to their defense. In his mind was the bloody scene the day Predaking, Twinstrike, and Lazerback had emerged and immediately slaughtered the animals.

Alpha Trion held him back, a hand falling over his shoulder.

"No, the Covenant foresaw no carnage. Look."

Both Prima and Alpha Trion observed the Predacon who was monstrous in almost all aspects. The Well had not made many such powerful Predacon since the first, but now here stood a Predacon who had the potential to rival him. Slightly smaller but broad and rippling with strength, he was grey with bright green wings. For now, the wings stayed tucked in and his lethally sharp beak was closed. In his large, yellow eyes was curiosity instead of malice. He stood among the three other bots as though he were the same as them, and the three were shorter than his arms yet unafraid of him. They were ignorant and calm, while horror broke out within both groups.

Ripclaw and the Predacons charged forward to grab the new Predacon, terrified that he was going to attack. The bipeds, who were closer, hollered and raced to grab their own people. While it all unfolded, Prima and Alpha Trion watched.

The grey and green Predacon did not move from his spot. His own kind were rushing for him, screeching and growling unintelligible words. When Ripclaw cried, "Stop! Don't move!", he did not understand. It was a fabricated language he had yet to learn. He was frozen because there was another language he did understand, because of a knowledge deep inside him. Primus' language, which he embraced since his forging. With each word he heard, he was reminded of its meaning.

His wide head turned away from his own kind toward the running bipeds. They were crying out in concern, but he quickly learned it was for the smaller bots at his feet. Other words were reserved for him

"Back beast! Do not dare attack!"

"Prima will slay you!"

"Do not move!"

So he was the beast, a hated and feared being. His chest ached in grief to have come into this tense world and be treated without love. The Predacon froze to keep the smaller bots from becoming more afraid, but he was hurt when he saw those he had been created with be ripped away. They had felt like kin, and he could tell that they felt the same. As they were snatched away, the three bots looked back in confusion and fright, alarmed by the yelling bots who were pulling them. None of them understood what was happening.

Still, they were tugged away while Ripclaw and her group dropped in around the young Predacon. They pushed at his sides, nipping his legs to get him moving. He was frightened of them, but he hurried along as they desired. Swiftly, he was shoved into the shock of his first flight, escorted away in the sky from the Well.

"Primus knows what has happened," Alpha Trion said, eyes on the shrinking shapes of the Predacons. "When the spark of the one killed returned to the Allspark, the memories of the event came with him. Though Primus is barely conscious, he senses the tension between his creations. He seeks peace, not the extermination of the Predacons. They are misguided children of Onyx, who might yet be changed. This Predacon forged today was created to be the link between the two worlds, the Predacons and the bipedal race. You saw what he can do."

"I did," Prima answered. "Centuries have passed, but he is the first Predacon to understand the language of our creator!"

"He will hear the plights of the people and speak of them to the Predacons. His spark will sympathize with them and be able to hold love for them. I am certain that he will be revolted by the culture of his kind, once he sees how they conquer the world and dominate the weak. For while he has the body of a Predacon, he has a spark imprinted on the kind he was forged with."

"He is incredibly powerful in body and spirit," Prima agreed. "Had you merely told me, I would have had difficulty believing you. Yet I have seen this Predacon and the way he regarded the people. His passion will grow stronger as he learns to despise his own race. He will tear apart those who dare approach the people with ill intent. And with his strength, he might one day usurp the Predaking himself if he does not protect the Oath. I see what has been done. The Predaking must be justice, controlling his kind by killing the wrongdoers. And if the Predaking fails to respect his promise, then this young Predacon of today will replace him."

Alpha Trion dipped his head. "It seems it is not your destiny to eradicate the Predacon race."

"You are right. Justice for the bipedal race now falls into the claws of the Predaking and this Predacon. Unless both fail and the Predacons fall into disarray. I will not step in unless the survival of the people is at stake."

"You have calmed, brother. I am pleased that the centuries of peace have changed your mind, despite recent events. You see now that it is too extreme to condemn an entire species to death based upon the actions of a few. There are innocents among monsters, who should be permitted to live."

"This world was once ours, but now, it is becoming more and more theirs to control," Prima replied. "If I am the sole symbol and actor of justice, then no one will ever understand it themselves. Through death, oppression, and unfairness, the feelings of righteousness will begin to arise within them naturally. Heroes will then be born, stronger because of our absence..."

* * *

The Predacon was beginning to find patterns in the growled words of his kind. He picked out his first words from the commands given to him.

"Eat." Ripclaw shoved a bird toward him.

They had flown into the heart of the Predaking's domain, where promising, new Predacons spent time in the Predaking's own land to determine if they had use. He was incredibly powerful, either a future threat or a possible ally to their king. Ripclaw thought that he might have been just a bit peckish, or mostly curious to bite into his first creature. There was a lot of fresh energon pumping in his young veins, so it was not necessary. And she, like other Predacons, told themselves that it was unbearable to go without something grinding inside their stomachs. They were convinced that they were not nearly as alert.

The grey and green Predacon stared at the dead creature without even opening his beak.

"You eat it," she emphasized. "Like this."

She thought that he had not understood, although a lot of new Predacons did. As Ripclaw swallowed a wing in demonstration, she wondered if this Predacon was just dimwitted. On the contrary, he was learning what death was, why the creature was no longer moving. On the way, he had seen birds flying, and now he was saddened to see it lying still and then disappearing into Ripclaw's mouth.

Ripclaw huffed in exasperation when he refused to touch the mechanimal.

"Fine then," she said. "We will try again when you are actually hungry."

As a Predacon with duties, she could not stay with him long. So he was left in the care of other loyal followers of the Predaking, who never left him alone. Until the Predaking returned, they let him roam, flying and walking around the land to learn. He was visited by Lazerback and Twinstrike at different times, who were inwardly suspicious of his power. Sometimes Predacons acted like savage brutes to look stronger than they actually were, but this Predacon radiated an air of strength without meaning to. It was in the way he held himself up and walked; he mirrored the Predaking, lacking only his arrogance.

The followers wanted to win his loyalty in their king's absence. They talked constantly with him to increase his vocabulary, but he did not seem to catch on as fast as other Predacons. The new Predacon was expecting the word order and the grammatical structure of Primus' language. It took a bit before he realized the differences, such as that verbs came first in Predacon sentences.

"Not a bright one at all," Backlash muttered. "He's as dumb as a grounder."

He began to irritate them by day one. They had showed him the warmest patches to sleep on, but he did not want to be in the open. For a draconic Predacon, it was quite unusual when he crawled into the shelter of a cave like a prey animal. They tried to encourage him to hunt, but he never dove after animals. Instead, he just watched them. When they tried to feed him, he never touched them.

"This Predacons is the stupidest, most un-Predacon bot I have ever seen," Fangblade grumbled to comrades, in front of the new Predacon himself. "He's going to starve to death in no time."

He was weakening, but he did not have the spark to inflict harm on the smaller creatures. He saw their little eyes and joints, and could only think of how they looked similar to the body parts of the bipeds he had been forged with. How they looked similar to his own. Still, his body cried out with thirst, and he knew instinctively that he needed to consume the precious, blue liquid.

On the third day, he spotted a pool of natural energon that had bubbled to the surface. His guardians squawked when he dipped his beak into it and began to drink.

"No, you idiot!"

Backlash was tired of this Predacon. He ran up and clouted him on the head, making him splutter. The new Predacon turned and regarded him with a shocked gaze, as Backlash bared his teeth and snarled.

"You are useless! The Predaking will have no need for you! Leave! Leave this land!"

He raked silver claws through the young Predacon's side. The grey and green Predacon scrambled back, not understanding the reason for this attack. The other two Predacons of the current group dove in, biting and scratching in their anger. He was overwhelmed with pain, and he saw his energon fly past his eyes when Backlash sliced across his face. But he did not flee from these bullies. His spark hardened at their cruelty, and he knew at once that he was stronger than these smaller Predacons. He could stop them.

His wings flared open and struck the two at his sides. Brilliant green was all they saw before they were hit in the head, vision flashing white. He curled his claws and punched Backlash so hard that he was instantly knocked out. Suddenly, everything calmed. The Predaking would have screeched in rage and torn them apart for such an attack. He was, however, silent. Two Predacons groaned and swayed up onto their feet, then saw that Backlash was out cold.

"Fang and flame, that Predacon is a brute," one whispered.

"Just his wings struck us down. Like the Predaking's."

The new Predacon shuffled back toward the pool and began to drink again. This time, he demanded respect. The smaller Predacons tried to be kinder, nudging him away and murmuring, "It will make you sick. It's no use."

He responded better to their civility. He stopped and watched them mime out how he would vomit and ache inside if he continued.

"You're a Predacon," they explained. "Not an Insecticon or something. You can't drink raw energon."

Backlash woke and dragged himself over.

"I don't know what to do with him," Backlash sighed. "He is odd, but he is powerful. Our Predaking will be back soon enough."

When Twinstrike popped in to check on them, they told him what had happened. He was of the same opinion: wait for the Predaking. Yet when their ruler did return, chaos came with him. Predacons who had already heard the news scattered and shrieked it, while the Predaking himself screeched to gather his closest followers. Sparks pounded with fear when they heard the rumors, but they needed to hear it from the Predaking himself. They charged for his camp, dragging along the young Predacon in the frantic flight.

"_A Predacon has killed a biped!_"

"_It's the end._"

"_We're all going to die._"

"_Prima is coming_."

The wails were everywhere, but he understood nothing. The lives of the Predacons were very confusing to him, where they killed animals and fought one another then acted like they had done nothing. This panic and forced flying unnerved him. Was this all common among his kind? Was this how his life would be?

The Predaking clawed anxious circles until everyone arrived. Twinstrike and Lazerback were closest, while Ripclaw, Fangblade, and Backlash sat behind them. Dozens of others, lower ranking in the Predaking's eyes but still loyal followers- sat without order in the back. The grey and green Predacon was shoved in among them, expected to watch and listen.

Usually he had his listeners lay down, submissive to him. The Predaking forgave them this day because they were too frightened to be down. All could barely sit still as he explained what had happened, that first Predacons had been eating dead bodies, then Hun-Grrr had killed a biped himself. Everyone wailed in horror and hurled questions at the Predaking about what they could possibly do.

"I slaughtered the Predacon myself, but I fear that Prima will not be satisfied! I made a promise to him long ago, but I could not stop this from happening. He may destroy us at any moment to save his people from any more deaths!"

They flapped their wings and scratched the ground in terror. The young Predacon was confused and frightened by their behaviour, and began to slink off to get away. He was spotted by the Predaking, who shrieked and loped after him.

"Who are you?" the Predaking snarled and blocked his path. "Where are you going?"

No one would have the audacity to leave while their king was addressing them. He did not know, however, that he even had a king.

"That is a new Predacon," Fangblade reported. "Dumb as stone. He doesn't understand anything."

He was big enough to stare eye-to-eye with the Predaking. Naturally, the Predaking did not like that at all, but to stare added insult. It indicated challenge among Predacons, a desire to fight.

The Predaking hissed. "Lie down."

When he did not move, the Predaking rose up on his hind legs and slammed down. Unprepared, the young Predacon crumpled and fell down onto his stomach. When the Predaking drew back, however, he started to stand back up and bristle.

So here was another bully, attacking him with seemingly no reason. He glared silently and tried to move around the Predaking.

"You dare?"

Now was a great time to have a challenger. The Predaking, filled with such stress, needed to take it out on someone. A Predacon as large as this would be satisfying. He lunged, crashing into his side and biting into his shoulder. Letting out a pained squawk, the new Predacon fell onto his side and punched out randomly. The back of his hand struck the Predaking's head, and the Predaking faltered, dazed by the blow. He had never felt such power from another Predacon before, out of the many hits he had taken in his life.

He was a threat that needed to be destroyed.

The experienced fighter dominated him in seconds, shrieking, biting, and clawing the hapless young one. As strong as he was, the grey and green Predacon did not know how to defend himself or counterattack. The Predaking tore open his side and back leg, then followed him as he tried to limp away. Leaping onto his back, the Predaking pinned him down then opened his teeth to bite into his nape.

Ripclaw cried, "No, my Predaking!"

He whipped his head in her direction. Suddenly she was horrified that she had dared speak against him, but she could not have helped it. She was always concerned for the well-being of her own race, which was why she took charge of collecting the new Predacons before they could break the Oath. It was too hard to watch one so young and ignorant die without ever enjoying the joys of Predacon life.

"He does not know better. We will teach him," she pleaded. "He can become an enforcer of your will. He can fight your enemies in your absence. Spare him; now he has learned to fear you."

The Predaking hissed and drew back, leaving the whimpering Predacon at his feet.

"If we survive that long," he uttered. Their king stalked back to his spot in the centre and continued. "There is nothing we can do. We will wait and see if Prima will come, listening to hear of any Predacon deaths. They would bear the burn marks of his weapon of light."

Ripclaw lifted her thick-ended tail for his attention. He acknowledged her, then she used the opportunity to lift his spirits and gain back his favour.

"I believe we will be safe," she decided. "Days have passed without his judgement. Your noble action, killing the guilty Predacon, must have pleased him. You promised to control your Predacons, and that could be the most important part of the Oath. So as long as you kill the bad Predacons and make the others fear your might, we can continue to live."

Everyone relaxed at those words. Even the Predaking sank down and tucked in his massive wings.

"Yes, Ripclaw. Sensible words," he rumbled. "With my superior might, I will control all Predacons and protect our great race from extermination."

He forgot about the new Predacon, who lay still and energon-deprived on the ground. When he scattered the assembly, only then did he see remember him and approach him. The Predaking wondered if there really could be a good use for him, someone to fight for him when he wasn't around. He would die though, without energon and soon.

The Predaking breathed fire over his wounds, not out of caring, but to win his loyalty. Then, he brought him a dead turbofox and dropped it by his head.

"Eat," he commanded.

Inner conflict tightened the young Predacon's spark. But he feared the Predaking, so he obeyed and took his first bites. Every moment, he despised it. It felt like cannibalism, and he could not stop thinking about the scared bipeds at the Well of Allsparks. This here was why they had called him a beast. Predacons ate other lifeforms, and they had thought he would do this to those dear bots he had been forged with.

It was more sickening when he knew, deep inside, that he found the taste delicious.

The Predaking watched him, satisfied that his head was low and he was avoiding eye contact. Good, all he needed was discipline. Predacons might come to know him, fearing the follower of Predaking who had the striking, green wings.

Indeed, this Predacon had an interesting destiny, but it was far from what the Predaking expected. No one yet knew that his spark was different than theirs, and that he would be the first Predacon who would be able to translate the bipedal language.

First, he was going to be trained and molded into a decent Predacon. To hunt, fight, and kill. Without a choice, he was going to do all of these things while his spark longed to be elsewhere and be another creature entirely. He would hate his body and lament his existence, but show none of it. Those who trained with him, apart from the Predaking, would begin to fear him and bear the wounds he had inflicted. The Predaking himself would be glad to grow stronger by having him around, and he would know his fighting patterns if there would ever come a day he needed to destroy him.

One day, the Predaking was going to release this fearsome warrior into the outer territories to spread his will. There was a chance that he could betray him, so the Predaking had to be ready. But he liked him for now, and had given him his name.

Grim, in reference to the darkness and cruelty he would cause. Wing, for his pair of notable, green wings. The young Predacon hated it, but Grimwing he would be.


	10. Chapter 9: Windrazor of the Shrikebots

**_Future references from _the Covenant of Primus_:_**

_"Shrikebots flying told me it. They the fastest flying bots. Came from far far away, chasing the night..." _-Lazerback

_"...If those Shrikebots are flying westward, we should too."_ -Twinstrike

* * *

While Skystalker and many Predacons of the Plains of Iacon were questioning if they still needed to fear Prima, they were not the first to act. It was a much more powerful group who tested the grounds first. For centuries, the wyvern-like Predacons near the Delta Winds had been recruiting those like them and learning about weather, strengthening themselves, and mastering flight. The Predaking had not known much about them since they were small Predacons living in a wasteland, who had never caused him trouble before. But things had changed since Skylynx and Darksteel had been given hospitality in their lands. Sparks had hardened, and they had grown increasingly more bitter against the large and draconic, four-legged Predacons who dominated their kind.

The Predaking learned about it only suddenly on one bright morning, when an unknown Predacon zipped below the cloudline over his territory. Not long after he had woken, the Predaking had been listening to reports from Twinstrike when he saw him. First, his hackles raised. He could not believe what he was seeing, but then, he saw for certain that the Predacon's head was turned down to look purposefully at him.

It was even more clearly intentional when the Predacon swerved, gliding a lazy circle over him while hardly flapping his wings. In the next instant, the Predaking shoved off the ground and launched into the air, his enormous wings flapping powerful strokes to gain altitude. In all of his centuries of life, the Predaking had been proud of his wings and certain that he was the fastest flier in the world. As a four-legged, draconic Predacon, he believed like others did, that he was a superior fighter on the ground and in the air because he had the extra arms and claws to attack with. So to see a small, two-legged Predacon challenge him made the Predaking decide that death was the only answer to such stupid arrogance.

The bird-like Predacon did not seem concerned. Now, the Predaking was close enough to see each plate of his green underbelly and the purple in his eyes. The king's claws flexed, eager to tear this Predacon apart. Just before he was upon him, however, the Predacon stooped and dropped, zipping under the Predaking's stomach. Then, faster than the Predaking's wings could have handled, the two-legged Predacon whipped around his tail and shot his talons into his back. There for a moment, then the swift Predacon darted away as energon burst out from the Predaking's hide.

The Predaking spun on him with a shriek of fury. The vexing bot fluttered upwards, tearing through the clouds and forcing the Predaking to come after him. In the mist, the Predacon struck him in the shoulder, finding him by the sound of his noisy flapping. The Predaking rose higher, spinning and blasting fire to force him away. Once he emerged above the clouds, however, the white and green Predacon appeared in front of him.

"For too long, we have dealt with your rule," he spat, eyes blazing with hate. "I am Windrazor, leader of the Shrikebots. You believe that your kind is superior because you are larger and stronger. But it is _my_ kind who are the best sub-species of the Predacons."

The Predaking only paused and let him carry on, to hear if there were more enemies he would have to destroy after him.

"We are the fastest fliers of all. Our shoulders are powerful, and we are not burdened by extra weight. I heard you think you are the best flier of all. Well, false king, prove it."

Windrazor tore upwards, his sharp wings slicing through the air. The Predaking screeched and rushed after him, but was instantly infuriated by the increasing wind catching in his giant wings. Windrazor chittered as he gained altitude and dodged the Predaking's blasts of fire. Surviving in a stormy land, these winds were like a gentle breeze for him. He wove into the higher currents, catching a boost that the Predaking could not understand or find. Fast though the Predaking was, the small Predacon was somehow carrying on, drifting further and further away.

Never had such frustration clutched him. The Predaking flapped up a cracking storm, shrieking and clawing the air, yet no matter how much distance the Predaking covered, Windrazor was always out of reach and getting further away. He was an unstoppable, uncatchable arrow who eventually, to the Predaking's dismay, became a mere speck in the distance.

He hung in the air, tilting back his head to shriek with such rage that the local Predacons fled in fear that it was them he was angered at. Windrazor disappeared from sight, but the hunt was not over. The Predaking caught up to a Predacon on the wing, landing on his back and forcing him to the ground.

"Who are the Shrikebots?" he snapped.

"I-I don't know!" the innocent Predacon cried.

The Predaking released him and hissed. As he skittered off, he turned and looked in the direction Windrazor had gone. Only now, as his rage cooled slightly, he started to process what Windrazor had said. Something about sub-species, which meant the Shrikebots could only be two-legged fliers like him. The Predaking pondered, trying to remember a land where many of such bots could be found.

The answer struck him at once.

"At the edge of the Winds," he growled. "The scavengers!"

The Predaking's pride wanted him to go alone, but his wounds stung and he hated to admit that he had never faced such fast, unpredictable opponents before. The challenge he was about to face could be his worst, and it was dangerous to let them live. He was going to need help to kill them all. Lazerback was the first on his mind because of his unique weapon, then Ripclaw was also ideal because she was venomous. A sting from her tail, and those small bots would be paralyzed or killed.

The Predaking returned and called for a meeting, shrieking to gather his followers across the territory. After an hour, they all returned and awaited his news.

"A group of two-legged, fast-flying Predacons have challenged me directly," he snarled. "They call themselves the Shrikebots, and their leader, Windrazor, wishes to replace me. They despise Predacons like us, and believe they are superior! I will now gather a group of you to fly with me and eradicate them for good!"

They screeched in approval. The Predaking's yellow eyes scanned them, deciding who to beckon to join his side.

"Lazerback, with me," he growled. "Twinstrike, you will keep charge in my absence."

The two separated; the smaller, red Predacon came crawling up to join him.

"Ripclaw. Fangblade. Backlash. Blood Claws. Metalscreech. Thorntail…"

All the Predacons padded forward as the Predaking looked back at Grimwing. The young Predacon knew enough to mostly understand him, but he did not have everyone else's eagerness to defend their race. He stared unblinkingly at the Predaking, lying with his arms crossed. Never had he killed another Predacon before, while many of the others had. Internally, Grimwing was begging to get to stay behind, though to show it would only anger his king. His spark beat with hope as each name passed and his was not called.

The Predaking decided, "Grimwing. This will be your first serious battle. You will kill on my behalf."

He had always been a strange one, who had needed to be forced to kill his prey in the beginning. Now, the grey and green Predacon slowly rose and strode obediently forward. That made them a perfectly large, odd number.

"To the sky, brethren!"

Grimwing found himself crowded up near the front behind Lazerback and Ripclaw. Other Predacons feared his power and decided that he ought to go ahead of them. There was absolutely no way to get out of this situation; this was his life, and he could not imagine any way out of this misery. Well, he could always infuriate the Predaking enough to get killed, but Grimwing feared the nothingness that all Predacons thought came after death.

The force of Predacons traversed the land and left the territory that Grimwing had been raised on. For the moment, Grimwing forgot about their mission and looked down in awe. Eventually, the silver fortress of a kingdom came into sight, and the young Predacon was filled with intense passion and grief. How he wished he could get closer and hear the people, or better yet walk among them. The latter he knew was impossible; the bipeds feared their kind for logical reasons, and they would not know he was any different.

He tried not to sigh each time they passed high above the bipedal domains. They never rested near them, but always in the middle of nowhere and intruding on other Predacons' territories. Grimwing hunted with the rest, quickly biting his prey's heads to kill them as cleanly and swiftly as possible. Then, alone, he curled up under the sky and watched the moons, still uncomfortable with sleeping outside, but happy enough to regard the night sky's beauty.

Gradually, their journey had become steadily more difficult as the winds began to pick up. They were getting closer to the equatorial storms, but already here the winds were stronger than anything Grimwing had ever experienced. He couldn't help but wonder if they were even going to have enough strength to fight the Shrikebots. And how could they dream of defeating these Predacons on their own territory? Grimwing could feel his balance being tossed all around as he struggled to stay in the V-formation. But the Predaking did not relent, naturally, with his eyes set forward and gleaming with rage.

Sharp and small silhouettes appeared in the distance, foreboding wraiths in the sky. They slipped away, steady missiles unbothered by the wind the Predaking's group was fighting against. Already, the youngest bot felt chilled. All the older Predacons around him, however, were too confident in themselves. They saw how small the enemy had looked, and burned with bloodlust. In front of Grimwing, Lazerback's body opened up even more, popping up the unique weapon on his back, and Ripclaw's tail pinched eagerly.

"They know we are coming!" the Predaking cried. "Swiftly, before they can fully prepare!"

Ripclaw called, "My Predaking, their leader came to challenge you! No doubt that they have been planning this. Their Predacons will be gathered in a trap."

"We are powerful enough," the Predaking growled. "No, this pleases me! With the enemy collected, we can destroy them all at once!"

Smooth mountains came closer as they continued, and now, the force could see their decorations clearly. Metal spikes had been stabbed into the mountains, each displaying the heads and bodies of prey and enemies. Insecticons, large mechanimals, and even some impaled Predacon heads or wings. Now, the origin of the group's name was understood, for in the Predacon language, the Shrikebots had combined the words _impaler_, _flier_, and _bot_. Grimwing squawked in horror, eyes locked on the Predacon parts bobbing in the wind. When he faltered in flight, Backlash bit the nub of Grimwing's tail to press him on.

The true beginning of the Winds was close. Here, it was deafening and the Predaking's challenging screech was chopped up and hurled away. Yet he hadn't needed to call them, for a small group of Shrikebots were already heading straight for them, a white and green Predacon at their head.

_Windrazor!_ the Predaking snarled internally. _I will consume your spark chamber and impale you and your followers on those spikes!_

They turned unexpectedly left, and the Predaking did not hesitate. Trap or not, he was going to pursue them. The heads of the Shrikebots turned back constantly to keep track of them, to make sure they were still coming. It was a battle the Predaking wanted, so no matter how anxious the others were about playing into enemy hands, he did not falter.

In some of the spike-covered mountains, eyes lit up from the holes. A horde of two-legged Predacons poured out like bats, screeching and rising in a cloud. The force of nine immediately reacted, bursts of fire exploding from their mouths along with Lazerback's greatly effective lazer. Concentrated together, even the swift Shrikebots couldn't escape injury. But they were many, nearly twenty-five in all- charging the nine draconic Predacons. The tide of small, fierce eyes shot upwards, and the terror almost made Grimwing forget all his training.

"Kill them all!" the Predaking roared. He dove into the thick of them, clawing and swinging his bladed tail to inflict maximum damage. The smaller Predacons tore open and dropped quite easily, which Grimwing soon discovered for himself. Bots slammed into him, talons peeling and slicing his metal. Wings flapped noisily all around him and beaks pecked for his eyes, and the panic turned him ferocious. The green and grey Predacon attacked, throwing them off and ripping them apart. His claws grabbed, his beak clamped and shook savagely, and severed wings and heads dropped all around him.

Ripclaw's tail jabbed and stung like a scorpion while Lazerback inflicted the most damage of them all. The humming beam swiped all around him, targeting Shrikebot faces and damaging their minds. When the Shrikebots at the back saw how quickly their brethren were falling, they turned and fled. Fast though they were, they realized that they would only perish without a proper battle formation.

Windrazor hissed and dropped down upon the Predaking. His feet struck into his neck plates, claws curling for a grip while he stabbed at his eyes. Instantly, the Predaking rolled to dislodge him, swiping to cut open his gut. Windrazor zipped back just out of reach, then whirled around the Predaking's blast of fire.

"You're kind is weak! Inferior!" the Predaking screeched and tore after him, his followers reforming and falling in behind him.

"Weaker, perhaps!" Windrazor screamed back. "We may lack cohesion, so perhaps a Shrikebot alone is the most formidable!"

The leader double-backed, shocking everyone by gliding into their formation. The tips of his purple wings, sharp like blades, sliced Lazerback and Ripclaw's shoulders before Windrazor twisted and stabbed his talons into Grimwing's neck. Fortunately for him, his armour was thick. Regardless, Grimwing shrieked in pain as energon oozed out and flung free into the air. The other Predacons behind him cried out as Windrazor wove around them with a swallow's agility, his legs swinging like a tail to adjust his balance.

The Predaking did not want to stand for such arrogance. He turned on his own group to pursue him, crashing into everyone and hitting them with his wings. Cackling, Windrazor swooped downwards, glancing back at the Predaking whose throat was illuminated by orange. He spun in circles, dodging every blast of fire without breaking pace. Everyone dove to follow the Predaking, all knowing that they were being led on a ride. Lower they flew, tearing straight toward a distant a bipedal kingdom.

First, he wondered if Windrazor was going to try to get his enemies shot at. But then, a feeling of dread came over the Predaking. Sensing Windrazor's intentions, he flapped frantically to catch up. Yet the Predacon was far too distant, and the group could only watch in horror as Windrazor shot down impossibly fast, his trim form dodging blasts and arrows, before he seized a biped and tore off with him. The silhouette in his claws struggled, still alive, as Windrazor cut back to head toward the storm.

"No!" the Predaking boomed. But then, he heard a screech more enraged than his own come from behind him. An unbelievable power possessed the youngest Predacon in the group, and the Predaking watched him shoot past him, still screeching while his wings fought the wind and carried him off ahead. Windrazor checked behind him, and stared in surprise as a big, lone Predacon broke ahead and separated from the group.

Windrazor increased his speed and searched for a favorable current. Grimwing saw him getting away, heading off straight for the increasing winds. It was getting harder for the Predaking's followers, but Grimwing's wings went numb. Fatigued though they were, they pumped constantly as though they were being controlled by another bot. His eyes were locked onto the squirming body, spark pulsing at the sound of the biped's cries that he could nearly understand, but could not with the wind sweeping the words away.

_I will save you! I will save you!_

The Predaking screeched something far behind him, but the distance made his high-pitched cry sound soft.

They were officially at the edge of the uncrossable storm of legend. Lazerback and the weaker fliers pulled back, and only a few of them continued forward. Awe and horror were slowly coming over them all as they saw Windrazor rise up confidently to fly deeper into the raging storm. Such could only indicate one thing: he had the experience and strength to fly through to cross the boundary of the north into the mysterious southern lands. Something that no one until now had thought possible.

"Grimwing!" the Predaking called.

The huge Predaking was suffering greatly in the storm. His gigantic wings, usually his pride, caught the wind like awkward sails. Whipped sideways, the Predaking flailed and shrieked as he somersaulted backwards through the air. His wings were yanked straight out and felt as though they were about to be ripped right out of their joints. There was no choice: he fought against the wind to fold in his wings, shaking and succeeding, then he finally dropped from the sky to slam against the ground.

There he lay, dazed, as Grimwing pressed on, his metal wings more effectively cutting through the air. All the others had given up and turned back, searching for metal ground to dig their claws into and crawl to safety. Fangblade log-rolled past Ripclaw before finding his feet, and everyone turned their heads toward the harsh, sandy wind.

Grimwing's darkening form flapped after the Shrikebot, but he was losing more and more distance.

"No!" he wailed, heard only by himself. "_No_!"

_Find the strength. His life depends on me. Find the strength!_

A fresh wind struck him from the side with a punch of overwhelming power. Grimwing was sucked away backwards, his forelegs waving in helpless surprise. In the instant he was caught by the tornado, Windrazor and the biped vanished from sight. He rolled and screamed, legs and wings flailing uselessly. Then, an even stronger force caught him, tearing him deeper into the storm. Pieces of dead animals cracked into him as he spun around and around, his body being pulled painfully the longer he remained trapped. He tried to close his wings and wrap them around his body, but the wind fought him to keep them open, to pull them and try to tear them from his body.

_I am going to die_.

He screamed in agony as all his joints were stretched.

_I'm trapped! I can't escape!_

The Predacon was hurled deeper into the haze of beige.

* * *

At the edge, the Predaking crawled his way to safer ground. Shaking, he met with his remaining, roughened followers. Their eyes lit up at his return, and pressing together, they walked away with their backs to the storm.

"What happened to Grimwing?" Ripclaw cried. She would have murmured, more appropriate of her concern, but the environment was much too loud for that.

"He is lost to us!" the Predaking called. "You know what is said about these storms! Once you enter them, they consume you. They will destroy you and never release your body!"

Until this day, the Predaking had never tried to fly through the storm that he had only passed by at a distance before. Previously, he imagined that he would have been able to, but now he was scared by the taste he had had. Never had his body been grabbed like that, like prey in the talons of something much bigger and more powerful. How he hated to feel this way, but at least it was nature and not some living being who had done this to him.

They stalked to a quieter place.

"The Shrikebots have examined the Winds for a long time," the Predaking said. "They must know a path through it."

"We will never find it," Lazerback replied. "Or, not in time."

"We must give up on rescuing that biped," the Predaking answered. "By now, it is probably dead. But Prima expects us to take care of Windrazor and the Shrikebots, so we _will_ make it to the Beyond."

"For the sake of our kind," Ripclaw agreed.

"I think there is another way," Lazerback said. "It is too dangerous to fly. We will be killed like Grimwing if we try. Instead, we can try going under."

"Under?" the Predaking's eyes were dubious. While Lazerback sometimes talked simply, he still produced some good ideas now and then. Still, they were all draconic Predacons who had for so long shunned the lives of grounder Predacons.

"Maybe some Predacons have gone to the other side," Lazerback continued. "Those that cannot fly, spend all their time underground. They could show us the way."

Everyone looked uncertain. After all, grounders were dirty, unintelligent Predacons in their eyes. Flying Predacons hardly cared enough about their lives or came close enough to hear their news. Mostly, the grounders were just packs looked upon with disgust from the sky.

"They probably won't even understand us," Backlash muttered.

"We will do it," the Predaking growled. "I have decided. We will _make_ them understand and take us to the Beyond, or they will face my wrath!"

The group chorused their agreement before spreading their wings and vanes to fly away. With the winds now helping and pushing them from behind, determination surged in their sparks.

* * *

The ground was cold, and it was night. Winds whistled eerily around Grimwing and buffeted his hurt body, as his head lifted and found the moons again. Their light was comforting, urging him onto his feet. He dragged himself forward, wings fallen and scraping the metal ground. There was not much else he could do in his exhausted and injured state apart from this, although he did raise his eyes to take in his surroundings.

As usual, nothing was familiar, but it did not look like the home of the Shrikebots.

_Where am I?_ he thought.

There was no sign of animals or civilization here. Weak and alone, Grimwing trudged into silver plains, and he began to whimper when he realized that as hard as he had tried, he had failed to save that little biped.


	11. Chapter 10: Blackbeak

The South- an entirely mysterious place for Grimwing and many Predacons. After he ate and rested, however, his wings hurt far too much to be able to fly. Even if he could go home to the Predaking's land, he did not think he wanted to. Even if he could find the Shrikebots, he was never going to defeat them on his own or get revenge. All that could be the Predaking's business now. Maybe it was even better for Grimwing just to hang near a kingdom to protect it from future Predacon attacks.

With his back to the storm and the sun on his left flank, Grimwing set off into untamed wilderness. For days into his new life, he walked and found no bipeds. Now and then though, he glimpsed Predacons flying in the distance.

It was not like the North, crowded with hostile Predacons. Here, no one bothered to come challenge him and defend territory. Grimwing spoke to no one and saw no Predacon up close. On his own, he made amazing discoveries, found the thunderous Sonic Canyons, travelled into the Acid Wastes. Eventually, his wings healed and he could fly once more. That was when he could cover major ground and travel towards the southern pole.

There, Grimwing spotted the most massive bipedal kingdom he had ever seen. Although he had seen so few, this one was truly remarkable. With long and high walls stretching out as far as he could see, it enclosed a city. From the angle, Grimwing began to see the buildings within, streets containing hundreds, thousands even- a number of bots he had never before seen all at once. It struck him with so much awe, that he did not notice the heavy machinery on the walltops turning in his direction.

With a _shhhht_, something grey shot upwards and impaled his back leg. Screeching, Grimwing tumbled in flight and saw a long, steel arrow, barbed and caught in his limb. In the next moment, a chain that was attached to the arrow yanked back, reeling him in. Grimwing cried out, flapping and frantically reaching to break the arrow's tip. Energon was oozing out his leg when another arrow caught him in the shoulder.

He lost altitude rapidly, biting to sever the tips of the arrows. The chains continued to pull him closer toward the foreboding walls and the severe, two-legged silhouettes on top. Grimwing crashed into the ground and was dragged over it, as blaster cannons heated up and aimed at him. He bit through the arrow in his shoulder just as the scorching beams began to strike him. Blinded and agonized, Grimwing panicked and snapped at the chain pulling his leg. With the last arrow still in his leg, Grimwing tore off into the air, fleeing for his life.

Once he was out of range, the smoking Predacon whimpered in pain. Lying down, he finally took out the last arrow. That was when he heard a small flutter, and a bird-like creature landed in front of him. It was the smallest Predacon Grimwing had ever seen in his life, only about the size of one of the bipeds, smaller than one of his arms. Grey with a black beak, he eyed him up with disdain.

When he spoke, his Predacon words had such a thick accent that Grimwing struggled to understand him. The isolation of the South had guided the language in another direction.

"You're new here, aren't you? Wind storm brought you in?" the Predacon asked, but to Grimwing sounded equivalent to, "_Ya nyew her, arrntcha? Vindstahrm brrrougtcha 'n_?"

"Er, yes…"

"That's how most of us get here," the little Predacon grumbled. "Swept away. Well, us survivors anyway. Some just spin until they die, haha."

"How long have you been here?" Grimwing asked.

"Oh, probably three hundred seasons." He nodded. "You know though, I could go back if I wanted. Underground, you see. But I _hate_ the North. So much fighting and death, and Predacons keep mistaking me for prey. For the most part, the South is a luxury place for Predacons. So much room and food. Only one thing to note: you got to stay very, very far away from the bipeds here. Especially _that_ there kingdom. We call it the 'Death Kingdom'. Any Predacon that comes close, they kill them and take out their pyrovalves to use in their weapons. They'll use your claws and teeth too. Really, all just bad news. They are cruel even to their own bots. Kill their people."

Grimwing dropped his head, sadness set in his expression.

"I'm surprised you're not angry," the Predacon chirped. "After they just shot at you. Most Predacons would be, at least it happens with Northerners. Idiots. I've tried to tell them in the past, but they want revenge or something, then get killed by the bipeds. But something about you is different. You're very calm; I like you. I don't like most bots."

The grey Predacon put his foot over Grimwing's bigger claws.

"My name's Blackbeak."

"I am Grimwing."

"Strong name. Not Greenwing, eh? Grim, dangerous."

"I did not name myself," Grimwing sighed and flinched at the stinging pain. "Otherwise, Greenwing would be much more pleasant."

"What? Don't like to be strong? You really aren't like other Predacons."

"No, I am not… Thanks to how I was forged, my mentality is different."

"Talk, Grimwing. I can weld your wounds."

The small Blackbeak hopped in and began to blow fire over his leaking holes. Relieved to watch the metal close, Grimwing exhaled then spoke.

"I was created at the same time as some bipeds. Because of that, I feel bonded to them. And this may be hard to believe, and I have never told others before…"

"Honour me then."

"I can understand their language."

"What?"

"I cannot speak it myself, but I understand their words."

"That's incredible!" Blackbeak cried.

"I just wanted to hear them," Grimwing murmured. "But they cannot help but be afraid of me. How could they know I am different? I am a Predacon. I want to watch them, however, to see how they live… In truth, I just wish I could be one of them."

"Ach, one of them? I'd be happy to be such a big, strong Predacon like you. Look at me! What's the point of being a small Predacon? No might, barely above prey. You are lucky, you know. I envy you."

"Who cares about being strong?" Grimwing protested. "All Predacons do is hunt and fight each other! There is no purpose. But look at those bots, who create and discover… There must be so much that they know that we do not. They have real lives. I would replace my claws with their hands if I could, my voicebox with theirs, my size for theirs, even my wings for their intelligence. Above all, I hate my internals. I do not want to have to kill for my energon. I want to be like them, surviving without harming others."

"Come on, what is wrong with hunting? I get the fighting, no point, but how can hunting be wrong if we were made to do it?" Blackbeak argued, puffing up his chest. "It is good to be the ones on top, better than the animals."

Grimwing growled, surprising Blackbeak with his furious passion. "No! Just because we can consume, does not mean we should! All we need is that energon, nothing else. All we do is cause pain to others. Population is controlled by that Well, not us! All we do is take, take… never giving anything! Where is the honour in that?"

"Alright, calm it. It isn't like we have a choice though. Just get sick eating the raw stuff. We aren't Insecticons or something."

The larger Predacon growled a sigh.

Blackbeak paced about. "Well, anyway, are you just going to lie here forever?"

"I do not know what else to do."

"You can come to my cave, if you want," Blackbeak said. "You're an interesting Predacon."

"A cave?"

"What, something wrong with that?" Blackbeak tossed up his head and sniffed. "Not good enough for your kind?"

"No, no… I have always wanted to live in one."

"What?"

"Inside, somewhere."

The small Predacon perked up. "Well, then, you are welcome! Nice to finally find a Predacon with an open mind to that sort of thing. Can you fly?"

"I think so." Grimwing wobbled upwards, but could not put weight on his legs. Opening his wings, he spared them the pain and rose into the air.

With that, Blackbeak flapped on ahead to lead the way.

The cave itself was huge, wide enough to hold two Predakings side-by-side, and it was long, branching off into smaller rooms. The place was entirely metal, existing in a rocky hill, and was a structure mysterious to the Predacons but still a home. In it, Grimwing felt happy. Finally, no wind and dust, and a place to hold him safely like an embrace.

He needed rest, and a lot of it. For days, he hung in the centre room, stretching out his legs and telling stories to Blackbeack about his life. As it turned out, Blackbeak did not like the Predaking as well.

"The biggest brute of all," he described him. "Thinks being a four-legged, big flier makes him better. Kills and devours his enemies, beats up anyone else who looks at him wrong. Ha! A Preda_king_. No, here in the South, we got no kings and we're fine."

"What about the Shrikebots?" Grimwing had already explained everything that had happened with them.

"Oh, they leave everyone alone. I know them well. They're the best fliers, crossing back and forth as they please. Their furious with your kind, and also Prima, but really, they're too scared to take on these bipeds here. I guess the North is their real target for everything."

"So they do not come this far?"

"Never. They stay by the Winds usually. Their real home is on the other side."

Blackbeak tried to hunt for Grimwing while he was injured. It was a honour for the tiny Predacon to be the caretaker of the much larger one. He looked proud when he dragged in large prey, but Grimwing was hesitant to eat.

"But obviously you do it," said Blackbeak. "You would be dead if you didn't"

"I know, but it is never easy for me. Especially after I just told you my feelings about it."

Nothing Blackbeak could do made Grimwing eat those few days. That grey and green Predacon just felt too hopeful near the bipeds, that he would find another way to get energon.

"Even if they had good energon that even Predacons could eat, we couldn't get it," Blackbeak sighed. "So come on, you're freaking me out. Don't die in my cave. How would I ever get your body out?"

At last, Grimwing submitted and guiltily swallowed a few petrorabbits.

He tried walking later, but it was no use. Blackbeak scolded him, called him an idiot, and made him rest and eat more. Blackbeak should have known better, a week later, when he mentioned to Grimwing that he saw the kingdom about to execute a criminal.

"What? They are going to kill their own?"

"Yeah, I told you they did that."

"But how did you see that?"

Blackbeak said, "They're outside. Usually they take the bot, drag them around the walls until they die."

The Predacon that had lain injured burst to life, tearing past Blackbeak to rush into the air. All the little Predacon could do was squawk and hurry after him, yelling and losing distance. Although Grimwing was weak from inactivity, his wings were still much larger, and his spirit more determined.

He still remembered the general direction, and then it was hard to miss the walls that were so grand. Soon, movement was spotted. On the ground, a trail of dust rose where zap-ponies charged ahead with riders on their backs. Behind them with hands bound and ankles chained to the animals, a criminal floundered and screamed in agony. Banging along, his back scraped the ground in torturous execution.

Without hesitation, Grimwing dove. He saw the huge weaponry turning toward him, but he felt no fear. Mind sharpening, focusing in the slowing moments, he wove and flew erratically to throw them off. Shots and arrows tore by him, missing, as he approached the ground. The riders saw the Predacon evading all weapons and panicked as he came closer, realizing they were alone outside the walls. Their ponies were urged on, and the frightened animals picked up speed despite the criminal's screams.

Grimwing's spark quickened at the pained sounds. As fast as he could, he slammed down on the chains and sliced through them. Zap-ponies tumbled and riders flew, then Grimwing grabbed the chains in his mouth and fled with the dangling bot.

A blast grazed his side, but he zipped away, escaping just narrowly from harm. High in the air, now the upside-down bot had another reason to be terrified. He was bound and in the clutches of an enormous Predacon, with all reason to believe he had been stolen to be devoured.

"Oh Primus, oh no, no- please, no…"

Grimwing understood every word, and the mewls broke his spark. How was he going to reassure him and tell him that he was saved? He hurried back, crushed with misery and pity on the flight back with the biped's sobbing.

_I am not like Windrazor. I promise_. He tried to look down with a kind gaze, but all that bot could see was blank eyes and a sharp beak.

On the way back to Blackbeak's cave, they met each other. Seeing his bounty, Blackbeak gasped, "You insane bot! You actually saved it!"

"More than an _it_," Grimwing grumbled through the chains.

The growls and hisses horrified the biped. He wiggled and swung, unable to escape.

When they reached the cave, Grimwing carried him inside and set him on the floor gently. Every movement, he tried to make slow and non-threatening. Red eyes followed Grimwing constantly, wide and teary.

"Blackbeak," Grimwing murmured. "Help me with the chains."

The green biped had sat up, now trying to skid backwards on his behind. Blackbeak hobbled closer to the smaller bot, and even he tried to be gentler than usual. His smaller beak snipped at the cuffs over one hand and then the next, freeing them first. It helped spread the message. The biped went quiet, stunned and regarding now his released hands.

Grimwing carefully slid his beak into the chains binding his ankles. Now, he could feel the warm metal of the living bot, such he had never felt before. It was amazing, but he was so scared that he would cut him. With careful bites, at last the chains broke and freed the bot entirely.

He did not move. The flier, who did not know he was one, sat with his wings down and made no attempt to get by the Predacons. He shook, not imagining that he could escape. Blackbeak backed away and stood beside Grimwing.

"We are not going to hurt you," Grimwing growled softly. At the sound of his harsh voice, which did not sound sentient to the biped at all, the bot cowered.

Grimwing lay down peacefully, and Blackbeak copied him.

"It is okay," he rumbled. "You are safe now.

The staring of the Predacons terrified the confused flier. Still, he was too petrified to move. Grimwing crawled closer; the bot whimpered and closed his eyes. Using the back of his blue hand, Grimwing stroked him on the chest, under the chin, alongside the face.

"W-what?" the biped whispered.

He opened his eyes and saw the large head right in front of him. He jerked away, but Grimwing just blinked at him. Then, Grimwing dipped his head, hiding his beak in his arms in what he hoped was an innocent gesture.

"Y-you aren't going to eat me?" he croaked.

Grimwing looked up. Did they share the same body language? He shook his head, hoping that whatever created them had instilled the same habit into both.

"N-no?"

_He understood!_

Grimwing tried to nod.

"Wh-what? D-do, you, _understand_ me?"

A nod.

"B-but, you're just a Predacon… Predacons aren't sentient…"

Grimwing touched his claws against his head and nodded.

"You are?" he yelped. "All of you?"

He nodded. Blackbeak chirped, "Wow, Grimwing… You really do understand that thing, don't you?"

"Please trust me," Grimwing murmured to the biped.

This time, the growling did not terrify him. He asked, "Are those… words?"

"Yes," Grimwing nodded.

"Predacons have a… language?"

"Yes."

Now the flier understood "yes" in that language.

Blackbeak said, "Grimwing! This is awesome, but what is he saying? Tell me!"

To make it clear the Predacons were conversing, Grimwing turned his head to him. "He is asking if we have a language. He did not know we could talk."

"What? Of course we do! We're not just animals!"

"Well, it was not clear to him, you know." Grimwing looked back to the biped, who suddenly looked awed and attentive, trying to grasp the meaning of their words.

Then Grimwing noticed energon, catching the flier's sides as it dripped off his wings. The grazes must have stung horribly. Feeling sorry for him, Grimwing tried desperately to mimic Primus's language. He wanted to say, "Are you okay?" but it came out horribly raspy and growly, nothing as smooth-sounding as the biped.

Still, his eyes widened. "Did you just ask me…"

_Yes!_ Grimwing brightened and nodded.

"This is insane," he breathed. "I'm talking to a Predacon… like another bot…"

Grimwing lifted the back of his hand to rub it tenderly against him. The criminal became calmer, certain now that he was not going to die.

"I am alright," he exhaled. "Thanks to you…"

_He is thanking me!_ Grimwing's spark swelled with joy.

"Um… Do all Predacons understand us?"

"No." Grimwing pointed at himself. "Just me"

He understood what he tried to say, but asked, "Why?"

Grimwing did not know how to explain it to the bot. Yes or no questions were the best.

"Hey, Grimwing," Blackbeak said. "We have to keep him now, don't we? Now that he has nowhere to go."

"Yes."

"Fair enough, but what are we going to feed him? You didn't think about that, did you?"

"We will find a way," Grimwing replied. "I trust that he will know."

"Um, Predacon… Sir..." the biped said. "If you all are intelligent creatures, then why do you attack us? Not you specifically, I mean… Don't you know that we're sentient too?"

Grimwing sighed and shook his head, showing that he did not know why and how to explain the cruelty of his kind.

"Hey… You know, if you understand me, then maybe… We can find a way to communicate. You can't read, can you?"

Grimwing cocked his head.

"No, seriously! This is a good idea… then you could tell me everything. There is a way to make words visible, by creating marks… in the ground, or something. If I teach you the letters to the sounds, then you could translate everything! From Predacon to my language."

Both of them grew excited at the unprecedented idea. Through writing, an incredible amount of information and thoughts could be passed. As Grimwing bobbed with enthusiasm, Blackbeak pushed against him and cried, "What? What did he say?"

"He came up with a way for me to talk to him," Grimwing gasped. "Through some sort of visible language!"

"What? You can't see words."

"He says you can. By scratching the ground in a special way to show the sounds…"

"Eh?"

"This is wonderful!" Grimwing exclaimed. "Blackbeak, we could teach this to all Predacons, and if this bot stays to help us, everyone of both languages might learn to understand each other! Can you imagine the knowledge he could give us? And if we can teach the Predaking and his followers, then we could make huge steps towards peace and collaboration!"

* * *

**From the Covenant of Primus, as written by Alpha Trion:**

_I note for the sake of completion here that it has been suggested in other, unofficial records, that the Predacons could not speak. Of course they could. The confusion over this arose from the fact that, for the most part, Predacons were never heard to speak by anyone who lived to tell the tale._


	12. Chapter 11: Skystalker

_He [the Predaking] had won these farms from a vicious and unpredictable foe, Skystalker, and every time he harvested the results he gloated on his victory._

* * *

The Predaking's journey to the South was far shorter than Grimwing's. He and his attack group had soon found grounder Predacons and bullied them into showing them an underground passage to the other side of the world. Then, every moment spent under the surface was torture for the Predaking. He felt cramped and was irritable, prone to nipping even his followers. But it was easier to bear this journey when he thought just how surprised the Shrikebots would be when he appeared in their southern sanctuary.

No one knew what to expect of a land they had never travelled to. They were disappointed quickly when the other side was not full of new colours and exciting, warped landscapes. Everything seemed as plain as their homeland when they took off into the sky together and looked down at it. And, without the constant sight of Predacons, it seemed even plainer.

When they did notice a Predacon flying in the distance, the Southerner instantly turned to flee. The group looked like bad business, but as fast as she tried to get away, the Predaking's huge wings helped him overtake her. His long claws curled around her shoulders from above and cut into her metal, and his weight drove her down to the ground.

"What do you know about the Shrikebots?" he demanded. "Where do they reside in the South?"

"I-I know where they are," she groaned. "Don't kill me."

"You will lead me to them."

She miserably nodded.

The Predaking's group caught up to them, a bunch of viscous-looking, battle-ready Predacons to the Southerner. She meekly went to the front of them and flew them north-eastward, returning to the Winds then following its edge. All the Predacons fought their way forward across the merciless sky, but when they came close, the local Predacon fled at the silhouette of a wyvern-like Predacon. She was let go as the Predaking rallied his followers.

"Quickly, before they can prepare!"

They dove down upon another hilly area, full of holes of homes and the same impaled bodies they had seen in the North. At that time, the Shrikebots had been relaxed with their guard down, satisfied with themselves and what they considered their victory. Windrazor slept beside the biped's head he had killed, in which he had shoved a spike through its eye. The Predaking's group struck like lightning, hitting the dozing Shrikebots and tearing them apart. Their terrified and pained shrieks woke Windrazor, and his purple eyes snapped open just before the Predaking slammed into him.

His golden foreclaws wrapped around Windrazor's body, then the Predaking rose onto his back legs and shrieked for attention. The white and green Predacon froze and dangled in the larger Predacon's grasp, flinching from the volume of his screech. All the Shrikebots stopped fighting to stare in horror at their hostage leader. As they did, the Predaking's followers snuck into optimal positions, and Lazerback's weapon heated up.

"You made a grave mistake in challenging me!" the Predaking cried. "You dared believe that your kind was mightier than mine! The punishment for this can only be death!"

Windrazor flapped and cut the Predaking with his desperate, sharp wings. Although cuts opened on the Predaking's arms, simultaneously the Predaking's claws tore across his chest. Windrazor tottered, energon gushing from his throat. When he tried to fly, the Predaking lunged and sank his teeth into the back of his neck, shaking his body and biting deeper until Windrazor's head separated from his neck.

Collectively, the Shrikebots shrieked with shock. In that moment, the draconic Predacon fell upon their petrified bodies in merciless attack. Lazers fired and scorched the smaller Predacons, and claws and teeth ripped their wings and disemboweled them. A few terrified Shrikebots managed to escape, diving away from Lazerback's lazer and leaving the slaughter with their lives. But the greater majority perished, poisoned, burned, or ripped from the unexpected strike.

At the end of it, the Predaking rose on the hill, spreading his wings to shriek victoriously to the sky. His bloody, rapturous followers joined him, mixing their cries into his. Then, the Predaking seized Windrazor's head and took off, leading them back to find their grounder guides.

The group was a horrifying sight, scratched, bloody, but with eyes shining with power. The flightless Predacons who had been waiting cowered, glad that they had obeyed and not run off. Business finished, the Predaking decided that he did not need to spend more than a day in this sparsely populated land, before returning to his own.

The grounders led them back to the North, even fed them with the animals they expertly hunted in the tunnels. Once the group resurfaced, they swiftly targeted the home of the northern Shrikebots who had been left there. Here, however, guards had spotted them coming and prepared these Shrikebots for the battle. The nimble fliers flashed past them and sliced them on the fly, yet their fatal flaw was that they did not know how to fight together. Lone hunters who were more of a threat alone, these bots collided in the cramped sky just as they had before and struggled to overwhelm the enemy.

The majority targeted the Predaking upon seeing their leader's head, but they were helpless to Lazerback's beaming lazer which melted the metal over their eyes. And as fast as they were, they bumped into each other and failed to escape the Predaking's blood rage.

Windrazor's head had dropped long ago so that the greatest number of Shrikebots would be ripped apart by all the Predaking's free claws. When it became clear that the remaining Shrikebots were not going to win, they drew back to cluster on the rocky slopes. Divebomb landed among them, his own eyes wide with fear.

"They want to kill us all," he chittered quickly. "Even if we fly away, they will track us down one day. We have to offer ourselves to them, to serve the Predaking, or our kind will be doomed to extinction."

They bobbed their heads in agreement, then bent down to kowtow, wings spread over the ground. They waited until the shrieking grew quiet and the last bodies hit the ground, then, they quivered as the Predaking's shadow fell over them.

Divebomb avoided eye contact and cried, "All hail, the Predaking!"

The others chorused, "All hail the Predaking!"

The Predaking landed among them and hissed, "You expect me to spare you after challenging me and calling yourselves superior? You are pathetic, bowing only because you know you are beaten."

"Yes, we know we are beaten," Divebomb replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "So we know that we were wrong. But, we could serve you well, Predaking. To help you hold command over large territories of land… we could do swift flying for you, be news-bearers, deliverers of your word… in both the North and the South…"

As the Predaking's followers gathered, a sudden interest gleamed in the Predaking's eyes at the idea of more control. Yes, if he had some Predacons like them, then the Predaking could find out anything that happened around the world much faster. The basis of their power was gone now, and the genocide would keep fear in their minds for long into the future.

The Predaking said, "Lazerback, fetch me Windrazor's head."

He dove down to find it, then he placed it between the Predaking's claws.

"Impale this at the tallest peak," the Predaking commanded, "and have the other Predacon heads removed so that only this one remains. As long as Windrazor's head remains, I will let you live as my news-carriers."

The Shrikebots showed their gratitude by scraping their heads into the ground and splaying themselves out again. More praises of the Predaking escaped from their beaks.

"Who are you?" the Predaking demanded of the speaker.

He nervously answered, "Divebomb, my Predaking."

"You are a smart one, but perhaps too smart. You are not these Predacons' leader. Remember that, or I will devour you."

The Predaking growled and Divebomb curled his toes, murmuring, "Yes… my Predaking."

* * *

Although he and his team were injured, the Predaking pressed them to complete the journey homewards. Once they came closer to the territory, the Predaking was startled to see Twinstrike, wings out and fluttering up to him.

"Why are you here?" the Predaking growled.

Twinstrike came closer, revealing scratches and bite marks all over his gold and blue body. He gasped out, "My Predaking, something terrible occurred in your absence! Predacons from the Cold Lands attacked us, and they have slaughtered your followers! I was one of the few who escaped-"

"_What_?" the Predaking screeched. "An enemy has taken over my domain?"

"Yes, they struck while the strongest were gone, then expected that you would return weary from battle! Or perhaps, they hoped that the Shrikebots would have killed you!"

The Predacons continued toward the Predaking's personal territory. He demanded, "Twinstrike, how many Predacons are we facing?"

"My king, it is not a matter of numbers. There are perhaps only twenty-"

"There were more Shrikebots than that!" the Predaking snarled. "Yet we defeated them! How could my followers have fallen to these Cold Land Predacons?"

"These are dangerous Predacons," Twinstrike muttered. "Each one uniquely powerful."

"Powerful how?"

"Strange abilities."

Lazerback suggested, "We will fight them, Predaking, but let us stop and prepare. Eat, rest, and listen to Twinstrike."

"No Predacon is more powerful than I am!" the Predaking roared. "Everyone, with me! We will destroy them as easily as the Shrikebots!"

Against their will, the group followed behind the Predaking. No one wanted to be the lone one to speak out against him and face his fury, so they hoped that this was a problem that the Predaking's raw rage might handle all alone as it had in the past.

A blue Predacon was patrolling the edge of the territory, and hurried away once he saw the group approaching. When the Predaking picked up the pace in pursuit, the exhausted group did as well to keep formation.

No Predacons dove at them from the sky. Instead, the territory echoed with shrieks of alarm, and the invading Predacons swiftly gathered to wait for the Predaking in his own camp. When he saw the collection of Predacons, he landed his group, flicking his tail for them to spread out. Now, two lines of Predacons eyed up each other, judging their abilities.

There were many grounder types in the enemy group, but the Predaking was wary of a huge, draconic Predacon who he assumed to be the leader. She was silver, slightly taller than he was, but just a bit narrower. Her body had the common yellow glow of a Predacon, but her eyes had a discolouration, giving them a rare, green colour. Seeing the Predaking staring, she flared her massive, white wings and hissed.

The Predacons around her looked at the Predaking's smaller number with disdain, confident that they were the weaker group. All except the Predaking looked weary and ripped, as though they would fall apart in the fight.

"You dared believe that you could take my place as ruler?" the Predaking hissed. "Do you not know how many pretenders I have consumed in the past? Just recently I killed one who had called himself Windrazor, and I destroyed his army. What do you think you and twenty Predacons could do?"

The voice that answered came from beside the brawny, silver Predacon.

"We twenty slaughtered more than twice the number of your current group with ease."

The Predaking glanced down and saw a blue Predacon below her shoulder. Something about him was quite vaguely familiar and made him despise him

"We are trained and unique," he went on. "Each with our own abilities. While the Shrikebots were formidable, they were uncoordinated. You will find us the most dangerous of your enemies thus far. I have planned your demise for a long time, Predaking, and now I am ready to take your place. I am Skystalker, the most intelligent Predacon ever to have been created. And I will lead the Predacons into a brighter future free of your brutish reign. Prima is clearly gone. Bipeds have died, and yet here we are. I will give the Predacons the freedom they have always wanted to hunt as they like."

"You are a fool!" the Predaking snapped.

"You are the fool, Predaking, for bringing your weak self and followers right to us. Attack!"

The green-eyed Predacon retracted her teeth and blasted blue fire directly at the Predaking, the hottest and most damaging fire to ever touch his hide. His flame-resistant metal began to melt, compelling him to charge away from its touch. Skystalker skidded out to block his path, blasting something from his mouth that was not flame, nothing that the Predaking had ever seen or felt before either. Intense cold mist clutched his joints and damaged them, bringing him down to the ground. The great Predacon collapsed, and both Skystalker and Azure lunged and tore into his body.

Lazerback and Ripclaw rushed to aid him. Lazers struck and burned Azure before she turned and blasted Lazerback with the excruciating, blue fire. His pained screech rang out before Ripclaw dove at Azure, jabbing the needle of her tail, trying to inject her poison into the huge Predacon. At that time, Cindersaur launched and clung to Ripclaw's back, biting and tearing off plates. Ripclaw rolled away, fighting madly to dislodge the small Predacon as Skystalker clawed the Predaking's face and neck.

The rest of the battle was equal horror for the Predaking's followers, the same nightmare Twinstrike had already experienced. A three-headed Predacon named Scourge overwhelmed Blood Claws, biting into his back, pulling off his tail and head with his other jaws. Red Fang, Skystalker's follower with red teeth, bit Metalscreech's head and injected acid inside him. Within the first minute, two of the Predaking's eight were dead. But their leader did not notice, and instead reared up, fighting against all pain to stand and whip out his wings. Skystalker fell back, but Azure was not knocked over. With this opportunity, she bit and tore into the softness of the Predaking's wings.

Twinstrike charged and clamped his two heads onto Azure's right foreleg, but her tail instantly swung around and drove two blades into his back. By then, Lazerback took the chance to shoot again, but the stout Rot Gut charged and bowled him off his feet.

Thorntail, another one of Predaking's followers, screeched horribly when other draconic Predacons fell over him and trapped him to the ground. Fangblade tried to help his comrade, but was bitten in the haunch by one of Scourge's three heads. At the same time, a pack of grounders ran over Backlash, blasting fire over him. Another Predacon follower of Skystalker, the blue Backbite, wove through the crowd and did his name justice- he snuck up and tackled Twinstrike, crunching his back and aiding Azure so that she could focus on the Predaking.

Ripclaw batted away Cindersaur desperately when she saw the Predaking falling under both Skystalker and Azure. Cold and hot collaborated to damage his body, and as the Predaking rolled away, they jumped to pin him with his underbelly exposed to the sky. Azure leaned away from his kicking legs, but Skystalker pressed against his throat and tried snapping under his jaw. Teeth getting closer and closer as Predaking's raised arms just barely held him back.

Ripclaw charged and struck Skystalker, completely taking him off guard. Their bodies screeched over the metal ground, and quickly, she stabbed Skystalker with both her tail and bit him with her fangs. The tail, filled with burning venom, pumped into his body for mere seconds before Azure was upon her. The Predaking had been all hers, but she abandoned him to dive onto Ripclaw, crushing her under powerful claws. Skystalker was freed, but he gasped as the venom rushed through his veins and burned like boiling blood. Glancing from him back to Ripclaw, Azure's eyes brightened with murderous hate. Snarls from above mixed with squeaks from below as Azure slashed open Ripclaw's face, killing her where she lay.

The broad tail fell limp near the Predaking as he recovered and stood. It was the moment that Ripclaw died that the Predaking realized that everything had gone wrong. Bodies of his followers mangled in the battleground, and the rest of the living ones were fighting for their lives.

_We are not winning._

Never had the Predaking ever thought such a thought before.

"Retreat!" he shrieked. He opened his wings and lifted off, hearing a storm of flapping as his followers took off. Then, a cacophony of snarls as the enemy reacted and launched after them.

Scourge's heads grabbed Fangblade's tail and yanked him back, and he screamed in panic, "No! Help!"

Lazerback turned and blasted with his lazer, burning Scourge until he released Fangblade. The horrified Fangblade rushed free, shaken and wide-eyed. Unfortunately at that time, Backbite and Red Fang grabbed hold of Thorntail, taking him down before Lazerback could rescue him. As Thorntail was torn apart, other draconic fliers rose and scratched at Twinstrike's legs. Lazerback began to target them, but by then, the Predaking turned back and plunged, knowing that his slower followers were never going to escape alive without his help.

The Predaking slammed both back feet into enemy heads and slashed the others with his tail. They tumbled from the sky, and luckily, the rest of Skystalker's followers were flightless and could not follow. The rag-tag group of survivors- Backlash, Fangblade, Twinstrike, and Lazerback, fled after the Predaking higher into the sky. Looking down, their leader was relieved that the biggest of the Predacons, the silver one, was occupied with Skystalker. Had she come after him, he may have out-flown her, but he would have lost more of his followers.

Scourge and Red Fang were coming back. The Predaking quickly led his group toward the clouds, trying to provide them any cover that he could. Higher, they needed to get much higher- but the Predaking's group was not keeping up. Lazerback waved his beam, catching their foes in the faces and forcing them down. Hearing their screams, the Predaking felt relieved. Had Lazerback not been there, everyone else would have been caught and killed.

They soared away, zipping over the clouds for their lives. Skystalker's fliers abandoned them, seeing that they were too far, and they too were injured thus did not want to continue the fight. All instead came to gather by Skystalker, who was twitching and groaning in agony.

Azure stood over him, shaking his shoulder and hissing, "Be strong, Skystalker! You will survive this! You must, for we have not yet won!"

* * *

When the Predaking gathered the survivors, his pride prevented him from admitting his mistake. But they did not expect that he would. Everyone collapsed, thankful just to be alive.

"This is not over," the Predaking growled. "We will return, stronger."

"And what can we do?" asked Twinstrike as Lazerback breathed helpful fire over his back. "We never killed any of them, yet we lost half our force to them."

Fangblade shuddered. "And to think, how easy it had been to battle the Shrikebots. These Predacons are powerful. Really powerful. Probably have been planning this for a long time. Then, when we left, they seized the chance to attack."

The Predaking said, "We will find Predacons to join us."

"Who would do that?" Lazerback uttered. "Skystalker is going to promise everyone free hunting. And he will turn all the Predacons with grudges against you onto his side."

"I am the ruler!" the Predaking screeched. "Without me, Skystalker will bring upon the extinction of our mighty race! Prima is watching. He expects us to defeat the false king!"

"He should just come now and kill them with his blue blade!" Backlash countered. "We're never going to beat them! Even if you recover, Predaking, we don't have our strongest fighters anymore! We are lucky to still have Lazerback, but we lost Grimwing and Ripclaw."

"Ripclaw managed to poison Skystalker before she was killed," the Predaking uttered. "He is weak now, and it appears that the silver Predacon was too affected to pursue us. With those two weakened, we stand a better chance. And remember, my brethren, that half of his followers cannot fly. Therefore, we return from the sky and stay clear of the ground. Lazerback will concentrate on killing the grounders, and the rest of us will handle the fliers."

"But can we even do that?" Fangblade grumbled.

"No, but we will get the Shrikebots," hissed the Predaking. "They will obey out of fear. And in fewer numbers, they are much more effective in a sky battle. By now they must be spreading to begin their duties to me, and so we may be able to locate one soon, if they do not locate us first."

"What if they align with Skystalker?" Backlash asked. "They might see it as a way of escaping service to you."

Twinstrike shook his heads. "No. Because they don't want to take the risk of our Predaking succeeding. Imagine how much trouble they would be in, if somehow he came out on top despite the odds. The Shrikebots have been given a merciful, free life from the Predaking. It is not something to hate, getting to fly over the world and only needing to report things to him."

The five began to feel more confident. It was an unexpected turn of events, that the enemy the Predaking had spared was now their greatest hope. No one could have foreseen this happening.

"I will fight the silver Predacon," the Predaking growled. "I will kill her. The rest of you, target one flier at a time and let the Shrikebots distract the others. Kill them one-by-one, then help Lazerback with the ground Predacons. But all of you, leave Skystalker to me. As the king, it is my duty to dispatch him myself."

All this had occurred just as Grimwing journeyed southwards, lost and curious, not knowing what would come to him once he found Blaster Kingdom. Before he had been injured, before meeting Blackbeak and rescuing the biped, the Predaking's war for the throne began against his greatest challenger of all.

* * *

**Azure and Skystalker are on Deviantart! (EmperorKumquat)**


	13. Chapter 12: The Battle of the Throne

By nightfall, the Predaking had organized the smallest of armies. Among them was Twinstrike, Lazerback, Backlash, and Fangblade, four followers of the Predaking who had escaped Skystalker's first massacre, and Divebomb with nine Shrikebots. They were about equal in number to Skystalker's Predacons, but unlike them, all of the Predaking's were fliers.

It was assumed, however, that Skystalker would be gathering more Predacons onto his side by the hour. That drove the Predaking to want to attack as soon as possible, yet his followers were too hurt to fight. The Predaking was in the same position, but his fury made him deny it. Each minute in exile with another Predacon acting in his position was maddening him.

"If we do not attack now, then we will never destroy them," the Predaking hissed. "Each day, he will promise Predacons freedom and gather them to his side. I will lose the respect and fear of Predacon kind if I do not stop him immediately!"

Twinstrike growled from where he lay, "We will _die_ if we go back now. We fought the Shrikebots, flew all this way, battled Skystalker's Predacons, and barely escaped with our lives. I can hardly move. Need a few days."

Divebomb offered, "The surviving Skrikebots are mostly unharmed. We are ready for battle, and if you need numbers, there are more of us…"

The Predaking snapped, "Your kind is swift and more formidable on your own, yet the more of you there are, the more useless you are. You get in each other's way."

The smaller Predacon walked closer. "Can you not teach us how to fight together? We could aid you greatly."

"I do not trust you," the Predaking growled. "Why would I reveal my tactics to my former enemies?"

"Because you need numbers now," Divebomb muttered. "That is why you invited us in the first place."

The Predaking stood up and peered down at him. "Tell me exactly why you obey me instead of Skystalker."

"You proved your might to us." Divebomb glanced down. "We Shrikebots thought we were more powerful than you, and more powerful than Prima. But you destroyed us easily, so Prima must be truly powerful to have defeated you. The Shrikebots now believe that as long as you control the Predacons, Prima stays out of things. I think if Skystalker defeats you, Prima will return to kill our species before they all break the Oath. But if you win, the peace is maintained and we get to survive. So we might as well try fighting or die trying. That is the logical explanation anyway, which you would believe even if you did not believe the truer reason: that we are thankful for your mercy."

The Predaking marched in a circle. "Alright, three days. I will tell you Shrikebots how to organize yourselves into formations, then you will go and teach the other Shrikebots what I have taught you. Bring everyone here on the third twilight from now. We will remain underground, refueling and resting our wounds. We will let Skystalker think that we are hiding, not preparing a counterstrike."

"Skystalker was poisoned by Ripclaw," Lazerback pointed out. "He also needs time to rest. Maybe he will not be able to get too many Predacons in three days."

"Yes, good. We have a chance," uttered the Predaking.

The Shrikebots gathered in an attentive cluster, but the Predaking directed them into a triangular formation.

"Fly like this, so that if one of you is struck, you do not crash into your brethren."

He then assigned each Predacon a body part to target, that they would always go for and nothing else.

"As long as you remember what you must attack, you will not get into each other's way. All of you went for the back and head before. However, even attacking your enemy's legs and tail will make them bleed. Furthermore, if you all strike at the same moment, they will be overwhelmed, unsure of which of you to attack first. That hesitation is the time you terminate them."

His plan needed to be modified now if he was going to rely so heavily on the Shrikebots. In smaller formations, he organized his original followers. Twinstrike and Lazerback at the Predaking's sides, the others in groups of three that needed to look out for each other at all times. No matter how badly they saw other groups getting maimed, they could not separate to go help others. To be alone against Skystalker's dangerous Predacons could mean death, as it had before.

After the Shrikebots understood the tactics, they departed to their homeland to pass on the knowledge to the others. The draconic Predacons left behind crawled through a large tunnel opening and descended deep into the underground, where they would spend the next days.

* * *

Skystalker was still, lying on his side with his nervous system scorched. He could not move himself, but he could speak. Because of that, he had instructed his less important fliers to spread the word that the Predaking was overthrown and injured, but he was not dead yet. The attractive slogan repeated among Predacons was approximately, "We are so close to killing the Predaking for good, but we need your help to do so". It compelled anyone who had ever been bullied or felt oppressed to rush over with a lust for revenge.

Azure dragged Skystalker away, knowing that he would be helpless if the Predaking found him lying in the open.

"We will finish it from here," she assured him.

Scourge ran over and helped her. They dragged Skystalker into a faraway cave, then sent one of the grounder types, Rot Gut, to guard him.

Skystalker's followers routinely brought more Predacons to the Predaking's territory. Word was spreading faster than the Predaking would have wanted or expected. Eager Predacons, especially the younger ones who had never seen Prima and thought him to be mythical, flew or ran to join Skystalker's army. On the territory, Azure often checked on Skystalker, receiving his orders, then relaying them to the others. The Predaking had explained his tactics to his army, and now, Azure was educating their Predacons on Skystalker's tactics.

Skystalker assured Azure that the Predaking was not a Predacon to run and hide. He would be back, to fight to the death for his kingly position. They would not actively leave to hunt him; the army would stay here to meet whatever the Predaking returned with. When Azure announced on the second day that they had amassed two hundred Predacons, Skystalker cackled.

"The Predaking will never find such support," he laughed. "He will be torn to scraps when he comes."

* * *

While no one liked being underground, it was the waiting and the lying still that were the most torturous. With all their wounds properly shut, everyone lay and willed their bodies to heal faster. Lazerback forbade the Predaking from hunting or checking on the sun, and he did it himself for the group. Without proper wings, closest to being a grounder, Lazerback crawled through the tunnels and took care of everyone.

The Predaking had been dozing when he heard a slithering sound of metal over metal. His eyes cracked open to see an unknown Predacon in front of him in that tunnel. He growled and lit fire in his throat, but the other Predacon gasped, "My Predaking? Why are you here?"

Hesitating, the Predaking swallowed back the fire and glared at the Predacon in the dim, yellow light produced by their bodies. It was the strangest Predacon he had ever seen, with no legs or wings to speak off. Consequently, the Predaking's face scrunched up with disgust.

"What kind of Predacon are you?" he uttered. "Without limbs or claws, you are helpless. How do you even hunt while you squirm on your stomach?"

"I lack legs, that is true," the other Predacon replied while trying to be patient. "It was how I was created, but I am as dangerous as any other Predacon in my own realm. The underground is mine. My body is incredibly powerful and adaptable. I can become slim, sliding into any place my head fits. I can become broad too. My plates extend and push me over rough ground, retract to let me slide across slippery metal. For all this, I am the quickest Predacon in the underground."

The snake-like Predacon demonstrated, letting his body become thin, then his body puffed out with pinecone-like texture.

"And you are loyal to me?" the Predaking asked.

"Yes, although I do not often go to the surface. But you are our king, because I heard that long ago, a powerful being put you in charge over our kind."

That was not exactly correct, but the Predaking kept himself from correcting the Predacon. After all, he needed allies right now.

"What is your name? he asked.

"I am Corhada."

"Corhada, there are enemy Predacons in my territory. Can you secretly go there, see how many there are, then report back to me?"

"Yes, my king."

Corhada spun around and zipped down the tunnel, his body fluidly slithering in S shapes that the Predaking could only ogle. Flowing like liquid over the tunnel floor, the legless Predacon instantly vanished.

He waited for what felt like eternity before he heard Corhada's return.

"Well?"

Corhada nervously answered, "There… are many Predacons."

"How many?" the Predaking snapped. "Get on with it."

"Somewhere between two hundred and three hundred."

The Predaking felt his spark fall from his chest and through the ground. Corhada, becoming afraid of his expression, slid away before he could somehow be blamed.

Alone, the Predaking clawed the ground anxiously. Even with all the Shrikebots, Skystalker's army was four times their number at least, and night was soon approaching. What could be done? The Predaking could _never_ flee and hide underground the rest of his life. He would rather perish than that and be a pathetic excuse for a Predacon. No, he could not feel fear either! That was such a prey response, not dignified of his race.

They would still go into battle, even if it meant certain death. That was the only option that would preserve the Predaking's honourable image into the future.

* * *

After the sun's descent, the sky's colours darkened into twilight. Around fifty Shrikebots returned as promised to the meeting place, ready for battle. Without telling anyone what numbers they were up against, the Predaking crawled from the tunnel with his remaining eight followers. They were all fairing better, but everyone including the Predaking were completely stiff and weak from their wounds.

In front of the army, the Predaking stood tall and flared out his wings.

"We will slaughter Skystalker's army!" the Predaking screeched. "No mercy! We kill, or we will be killed! It is time to take back our land, to protect all of Predacon kind!"

The followers roared and the Shrikebots squawked and chattered. Then, the energized groups charged forward to lift off into the sky and assume their battle positions.

* * *

The moons were rising and brightening as night fell. Skystalker's army numbered nearly three hundred now, with some Predacons assigned to hunting and patrolling for the rest. Most were sleeping at that time, but the few guards that were awake spotted something approaching below the moons. Small, on the ground, and heading straight for the territory.

"What animal is that?" one muttered.

Another guard got to his feet. "Who cares? It's prey."

Evidently, another Predacon had had the same idea. A flier from the sky dove with a victorious screech, claws hooked to grab the creature. A flash of blue light, then the Predacon came crashing down beside the figure, wings crumbled, body unmoving. Following this, the blade was raised into the night, its blue glow penetrating the darkness to be seen by the distant Predacons.

The guards reared backwards and screeched with terror. "It's Prima!"

At the sound of their shrieks, other guards saw the Star Saber and lone biped in the distance. They caterwauled in horror, also taking to the sky to flee. Cries of the Prime's name rang out over the territory, waking every last Predacon who had been asleep.

"Prima is here!" they screamed. All new Predacons, who had either seen or not seen Prima for themselves, fled while they thought they could. Within that minute, the territory was a storm of cries, flapping wings, and running bodies. Skystalker's followers were battered by the panicking Predacons, their own sparks pulsing as they tried to decide what do to.

As the territory emptied of Predacons, it grew quieter and there was more visibility. All that remained where Skystalker's original followers, who had clung to the ground and waited for silence. They peered all around themselves into the night, but Prima was nowhere to be seen. However, there was one limp corpse in the plains, which Azure and Backbite hurried over to. Coming closer, they gazed over the sharp burn mark that slashed diagonally up the Predacon's underbelly.

"It _was_ Prima," Backbite whispered. Azure was too young to have ever seen him or his weapon, so Backbite's frightened affirmation gave her chills.

"A little biped did this?" she growled.

"He is different," Backbite murmured. "Another kind."

"No matter what he is, no one could have stood against our army!" Azure screeched. "Those idiotic cowards fled instead of rallying against him! We had one chance of destroying Prima for good, and we lost it!"

Backbite stared at the body, as though it was in itself a bad omen. Azure whipped away from it, flying to Skystalker's cave to report all that had happened.

* * *

As the Predaking's army flew closer, they spotted a scattering of Predacons frantically flying towards them. They hardened themselves for an attack, but the heads of these Predacons kept looking back with eyes wide with fear. All rushed past them, barely noticing the Predaking, and the army twitched in flight but did not have to attack.

_What was that about? Were they attacked by Skystalker's army?_ the Predaking wondered, never realizing that those Predacons _had_ been that army.

The territory was coming into sight, but the incredible numbers that the Predaking had been warned of were not seen. It was eerily empty and quiet, without even Predacons patrolling to look out for him. His mind was clouded with confusion, but he was too excited to question his luck.

They espied a blue Predacon alone in the plain, standing petrified next to a body of another Predacon.

"_Attack!_" the Predaking screeched.

The Shrikebots shot past him, Divebomb's attack force striking Backbite before he could fly. Legs, tail, and wings were pulled and bitten all at once, and he screamed in surprise and agony. Backbite tried to rush forward, but Divebomb sank his claws into his eyes and head, ripping and biting until Backbite collapsed in death.

The Predaking knew it was not Skystalker, thus carried on at the head as the Shrikebots returned to their previous positions.

Upon hearing Backbite's scream, Skystalker's nearby followers realized that they were under attack. But it was not Prima, for when they looked for him, they instead spotted many shapes in the sky, fast approaching with fatal intent.

"It is the Predaking!" Scourge roared. "Destroy him!"

Skystalker's flying followers raced into the sky while the grounder types were forced to watch from below. The three heads of Scourge, snapped in murderous rage before blasting fire. The army broke off into their groups, spreading around the mere dozen of Skystalker's Predacons. Even Scourge's eyes began to widen when he noticed many small shapes darting around them.

Red Fang hollered, "The Shrikebots!"

The last thing anyone had expected was the defeated Shrikebots siding with the Predaking. In the next second, Scourge was nailed from the back, above, and below by small claws and beaks. They stayed out of range of his gnashing heads, clinging and weighing him down. Before one could be bitten, Fangblade, Backlash, and another Predacon dove upon the distracted Scourge. The brutish Predacon was dispatched when his necks were crunched between several jaws, then his body slammed into the ground by the weight of so many Predacons.

Red Fang's sank his teeth into a Shrikebot's wing, burning it with acid. He was blindsided by other followers of Predaking, and in the next second his bloody corpse was flung away. Shrikebots and the Predaking's followers darted back to the main formation, before turning upon other Predacons. Precise attacks felled Skystalker's Predacons one-by-one, leaving fewer and fewer in the sky.

_Where is Skystalker and the silver Predacon? _the Predaking soared with Twinstrike and Lazerback, scanning the fighting Predacons in the sky. Neither could be seen. He snarled and dove down, targeting the grounder Predacons for now. Some were being dive-bombed by Shrikebots, but Lazerback's weapon was causing the most devastation of all. They tumbled, burned as they ran, then were small and helpless as the Predaking slammed onto the ground, charging forward with Twinstrike to tear them to halves.

Shrieks of battle and death gripped the night. Skystalker emerged from his cave, hobbling with Rot Gut at his side. Azure crashed down in front of them, exclaiming, "Prima appeared and frightened away your army!"

"I hear the Predaking," Skystalker breathed.

"Yes. I think he has come with his own army."

"I hear the cries of the Shrikebots as well." Skystalker's eyes widened. "They have aligned with him!"

"What are your orders?" Azure pushed.

Usually, Skystalker had a swift response to give her. She was stunned when he hesitated and stared forward with eyes wide.

"We are not going to win," he whispered.

"What?" she barked.

"We have to go!" Skystalker cried. "Come on, Azureflame! If you wish to live, we must leave, _now_!"

The two launched into the sky, leaving the poor Rot Gut to run for his own life. They rushed towards the clouds, flying faster than they had ever flown before. They heard the sounds of approaching death and prayed that no one had seen them. Skystalker grunted in pain as he pressed his stiff body onward, but it helped Azure keep track of where he was. Racing through the plains of clouds, they ate up as much distance as they possibly could with the cover. Then when they broke into a cloudless expanse, they kept hurrying on without looking back.

In the territory they had left, Rot Gut ran and whimpered as shadows expanded over him. He had run far, searching for tunnels but had been unable to find any nearby. Alone in the open, he was a defenseless target for the Shrikebots, who struck him all at once then tore him limb-from-limb.

It grew quiet. The Predaking's army looked all around themselves for more targets, yet no other living Predacons could be found. Their leader circumnavigated the territory, could not find anyone else, then returned to his clearing. As he had before with his followers, he gathered them there with a screech. The Predaking's s spark soared as everyone dropped down and sat expectantly before him, their eyes just as bright with rapture as his were.

Surging up onto his hind legs, the Predaking spread his wings and screeched to the sky.

"_We have won!_"

They screamed in victory, then followed a chant that Twinstrike started.

"_Hail the Predaking! Hail the Predaking!_"

When the long-lasting chant died down, the Predaking prowled pensively in a circle.

"Yet Skystalker is still alive," he said. "He may once again try to rise into power. We must quickly spread the word that I have defeated him! Shrikebots, my swift fliers! Go far and wide and tell everyone how we slaughtered Skystalker's army! Bring me new followers, while also searching for Skystalker and the silver Predacon with white wings!"

"Yes, my Predaking!" Divebomb cried.

As they departed, the Predaking continued, "We will not rest now. We must travel to the Cold Lands where Skystalker's Predacons originated. There may be a few followers left, his weakest. We will dominate them and take the territories for ourselves! Lazerback, Twinstrike, remain here!"

The group of Predacons ascended to make the journey. With sparks still filled with elation, they glided and shrieked over the lands. Random Predacons rose to join the group without explanation or special permission. They were the ones who had been terrified by Prima's appearance, and seeing the clearly victorious, blood-covered Predaking, they immediately re-pledged their allegiance to him.

"Hail the Predaking! The true king!"

His pleased roar scared the nearby animals into hiding.

By the time they had reached the Plains of Iacon, the Predaking was surrounded by an intimidating number of fifty Predacons. They burst into the territory, and those remaining did not dare put up a fight. Horrified, Skylynx, Darksteel, Vertebreak, and a few others were clustered into a circle and surrounded by teeth.

The Predaking broke through the crowd and stood before them. "I defeated Skystalker's army. Now you are mine, and you will obey me, or perish."

They lay down onto their bellies, the Predacon version of bowing.

"All hail the Predaking," Skylynx rumbled.

The Predaking demanded, "Are there other followers of Skystalker?"

"No," they answered.

"You killed the rest," Darksteel murmured.

"Tell me of these lands. What bounty can I now take from my fallen foe?"

Skylynx answered, "He created a farm of Insecticons. There were many in the area, and he puts energon in a plain to attract them."

"Show me this farm," the Predaking said.

They flew to Skystalker's personal territory, only for the Predaking to be shocked at the size of the farm, greater than any other he had happened to see before. Insecticons prowled as far as the eye could see, digging into rock and metal to find natural energon that had not been planted there. It was a home they had no desire to leave, and they were so tame that they did not even react to the presence of many Predacons.

It was a beautiful sight; the Predaking felt his insides grinding in hunger. To his followers who had fought in the battle, he called their names then permitted them.

"Feast, in the name of our victory!"


	14. Chapter 13: Storm

The bipedal flier that Grimwing had rescued was Storm. His home had been the battle-hungry Blaster Kingdom, a place that shoved its people into two classes: scientists and warriors. Storm had been a scientist, developing weapons under strict orders. However, from resentment he had become a thief who stole precious items from the kingdom's council. As he explained to Grimwing, he had been quite good at it too. The only reason he had ever been caught was because one of his believed friends had sold him out.

"Slow execution is what you get for that," Storm concluded.

Grimwing listened with wide-eyes, soaking in the incredible story. More interesting things must go on in Storm's life than in years of the Predaking's. Blackbeak, however, was frustrated that he could not understand anything. Too often, Grimwing forgot to translate for him, and Blackbeak grew tired of asking and went outside.

"I'll need to refuel now," Storm said. "If you can fly me to another kingdom, a more peaceful one, then I can ask them for an energon processor or two. That means we can take any regular crystals to produce clean, liquid fuel."

Grimwing lifted his head and widened his eyes.

Storm asked, "Oh, so you want to try this as well?"

He bobbed his head and growled affirmatively.

"Alright then, I will help lead you the right way."

Grimwing wondered if he would have to hold him in his claws, but Storm started climbing up his arm. He froze, debating if he should stop him. Was it safe for him up there? Storm grasped onto his back plates, but Grimwing worried that Storm would fall off in flight or get snatched off his back by a Shrikebot.

In the end, he let the biped do as he pleased. Blackbeak gawked at them at the entrance, inquiring, "What are you doing?"

"We are going to get something," Grimwing explained. "It will give us energon forever. With this, we will never have to hunt again."

Blackbeak scoffed. "That is fine for him, but you are very strange for being so excited about it. Just hunt, you know, like you were created to."

Grimwing crawled out of the cave and gently lifted himself up into the sky. Blackbeak darted out to fly beside him, and as they rose higher, Storm shifted and looked down. Just as Grimwing began fearing that the biped would be struck with terror, Storm whooped in delight.

"This is wonderful!" he cried. "Oh, I love it! I can see so much, and the air feels amazing… So this is what it is like to fly! If only I had wings like you, to flap and carry me here every day…!"

Storm nuzzled into his neck.

"Please take me flying again. There is just something about it that brings me more joy than anything I have ever experienced before."

Grimwing trilled back at him. Giddy, Storm laughed and squeezed him.

Blaster Kingdom and Slaughter Kingdom were in constant competition with each other, but Kaon was a smaller, developing place that was ignored by the current greater powers. Approaching it, the two Predacons landed and allowed Storm to walk the rest of the way there.

"Pah, he won't be coming back," Blackbeak squawked. "Just made us take him to a new home."

"No, he will come back," Grimwing replied.

"Why would he want to leave a place of his people to live with two Predacons?"

"Because he also wants to create a world where Predacons and bipeds can communicate and live together peacefully."

The Predacons waited, one patiently and the other impatiently. A whole night and day passed, but Grimwing refused to leave despite how Blackbeak nipped and pulled him. But because Grimwing stayed, Blackbeak did too, walking over his back and muttering that it was hopeless.

As promised, Storm eventually returned with two large energon processors that he towed in a cheap wagon. His eyes were brighter, body stronger, and his wounds had been closed expertly by a medic. Grimwing jumped up and loped toward him, swirling around him to gawk at the incredible treatment he had received.

"They were kinder than I imagined," Storm breathed.

"I am glad," Grimwing rumbled back in his own language.

Storm climbed back onto his back, and Grimwing carried everything, even taking the wagon with him because the wheels intrigued him. In front of Blackbeak's cave, they put nearby crystals into the solar-powered processors. It was like magic for the Predacons to see solid energon dripping and collecting as a liquid at the bottom of the container. Even Blackbeak was entranced, and when the crystals disappeared, Storm detached the bottom part of a processor and held it out to Grimwing.

"Well, give it a try! It is pure now; it won't make you sick."

Grimwing lay down and parted his beak. Storm poured the energon into it for him so that no mess would be made. After swallowing, Grimwing jumped up and cried with joy.

"Blackbeak!" he exclaimed. "You must try this! It is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted in my life!"

"How is it not boring?" He stretched out his wings in disinterest. "It's just energon, with no extra bits."

"Yes, that is what makes it so clean! And it is so sweet, not metallic."

"I'm good." Blackbeak turned his head, but watched Storm drink from the other full container.

Unable to finish it, Storm passed the rest to Grimwing. Generally, Grimwing was energon-deficient, so soon after drinking all the energon, he felt power entering his limbs. It had been a long time since he had felt so strong, even with his recent injuries.

"Blackbeak!" he gasped. "I already feel energized. This is a superior source of energon, with no need for us to waste energy and time digesting anything else."

"It probably isn't healthy for a Predacon," Blackbeak replied. "Your organs need something to grind, you know. And it keeps you sharp."

"That is nonsense," Grimwing huffed. "Why must you be so stubborn? Can you not at least try it before arguing?"

Blackbeak shrugged. "I might _try_ it, but you have drank it all anyway. So later."

Storm ignored the bitter, squawking creature. He put more energon into the processors and left them in the sun, then hopped over to Grimwing.

"Let's start then, shall we?"

Grimwing tore some metal from the ground and gave Storm a shard that he could use. The large Predacon then lay down and looked as polite and attentive as he could. The green biped sat beside him and asked, "Can you see?"

He nodded happily.

"So there is an order to the symbols, but I think I will teach you them based on the most common sounds. Alright?"

Grimwing nodded, spark light with happiness.

Storm gave him his first letters and had Grimwing try to copy them by drawing with his claw. His work was messy but sincere, innocent like any new Cybertronian. Storm smiled and was proud of Grimwing's determination. Together with the letters he knew, Storm helped him write a few simple words.

"Blackbeak!" Grimwing called. "You should join me! It is not so difficult."

The small Predacon padded over and looked at the lines and dots.

"Look." Grimwing pointed at one of the short words. "This is 'sun' in his language."

"Oh yeah?" Blackbeak answered, slightly impressed. "That was fast, but then again, you already understand their spoken language."

"Come, give it a try. Storm will tell you how they pronounce each mark."

"Ach, I don't know. It's cool, but it is much, much harder for me to learn, you know."

"But I want every Predacon to learn this," Grimwing sighed. "Could you try a bit? I am sure that you are smart enough to get it."

Blackbeak puffed his scrawny chest. "Of course I am, but don't judge me if it takes me longer."

Storm blinked, but Grimwing flicked his paw to encourage him. So Storm introduced the first letter he had taught Grimwing, and Grimwing too listened closely to burn the knowledge into his mind. Blackbeak scratched wobbly letters, but when Storm gave him another, Blackbeak muttered to Grimwing.

"What? That sounded just like the other one! How am I supposed to tell the difference between his weird sounds?"

"Well," Grimwing replied. "I am sure you will get used to it. There are more sounds in his language and actually, I believe it is easier to tell them apart. Not like our language, with its tones and short and long sounds. It would be much harder for Storm to learn our language than the other way around."

"Yeah, why doesn't he learn ours?" Blackbeak protested.

"He probably will," Grimwing said. "Once I can write to him, then I can start teaching him."

Blackbeak did not look pleased by Grimwing's logical responses. He was frustrated because he was confused, and only wanted to complain.

Blackbeak continued to letter number four, before stalking off with the complaint, "I've had enough for today. The language is too hard."

Grimwing stayed however, trying to absorb as much as he could before his head hurt. When he began missing up things too often, Storm lay his hand over his claws reassuringly.

"Let's continue later. This is not something one learns all at once, so don't feel bad."

He was eager to learn, but he had to agree that his processor needed a break. It would be dark soon as well, so they would have a harder time seeing the marks in the metal. They all entered the cave system, and Grimwing guided Storm to a little hole and room where he could feel alone and safer. Everyone slept separately, but in the morning, Storm overslept because of the deep darkness.

Grimwing did not dare wake him, but waited outside the cave and played with the wagon. Blackbeak fluttered in with an animal in his talons and began tearing at it beside the entrance.

"What are you doing? Take that away," Grimwing hissed.

"What? Because of that biped?"

"Yes, obviously! You will frighten him."

Blackbeak huffed, "Such a weak creature." He grasped the animal and flew away with it, before Storm finally emerged.

Grimwing was relieved that since then, Blackbeak never brought back his catches to the cave. He and Storm spent peaceful weeks together, writing and reading, drinking energon, and going on runs or flights with Storm clinging to his back. During that time, Grimwing grew stronger and quickly picked up the written language. Blackbeak still could not write more than seven letters, and he wrote them out of memorization, with no idea of what sounds they represented. He knew no words of Primus' language, while Grimwing was writing sentences.

Grimwing wanted to be certain that he grasped the alphabet, mastering spelling variations and diphthongs. After a month, he was finally able to translate his thoughts and questions to the biped. He wrote his thanks, asked about history and science, and about Storm's life. Then, the biped either wrote or verbally answered.

"I am ready," Grimwing announced one morning. "I know enough to communicate with him, so now we can go northwards."

"Oh joy, the North," Blackbeak grumbled. "Overpopulation and Predacons murdering Predacons. I cannot wait."

Grimwing gave Storm a rundown in imperfect writing.

_Now we can go back to the place I came from to see the leader of the Predacons. We will teach him and his followers the language first. Remember his name? The Predaking, and he is serious about the king thing. He will not dare harm you, and he will kill anyone who tries to. But you have to respect him. Sit down when he talks and do not look into his eyes, because Predacons see that as a want to fight. You are safe, but we want him to like you. Because he thinks your kind is inferior and not worth his time. He may even refuse at first to learn the language._

Once they were set, Storm climbed onto his back while Grimwing held the energon processors in his claws. Thus began their miraculous journey homewards, the happiest time in all of their lives. As bitter as Blackbeak had acted, he soared above them with a spark beating in excitement. It had been centuries since he had been swept away from the North, so he was curious and eager for a change in scenery. Storm was overjoyed to fly entire days, smiling even into the intensifying winds. Then in the nights, Storm slept in the safety of Grimwing's arms while Blackbeak perched on his back.

Once they reached the edge of the Winds, Grimwing scrutinized the sky. He was so afraid that a Shrikebot would pick off Storm that he had Blackbeak sit on his back and spread his wings over him to hide him. Yet the skies here were surprisingly empty, due to the slaughter that Grimwing did not know had taken place.

They looked for a wide tunnel with many scratch marks around it, clear evidence of Predacon traffic. They waited until one of the stout and short, two-legged Predacons lumbered by. He gawked at the biped peeking at him from the back of the big, draconic Predacon, but Grimwing looked too powerful to argue with. Besides, he seemed far from breaking the Oath. The biped was not frightened as he held two strange cylinders, and a small, winged Predacon was protectively glaring at the stranger Predacon.

"Please, do you know a way to the North underground?" Grimwing asked.

"Yeah, sure I do."

"Could you take us there?"

The Predacon shifted his jaw, wondering if he ought to demand a payment from the stronger Predacon.

"Fine," he grunted. "But you tell me why you have one of those bipeds on your back."

So the payment became a story and a taste of the processed energon. The flightless Predacon was awed by the most interesting thing he had ever heard in his long life, but he was not eager to learn the language when Grimwing proposed the idea.

"I don't know," he grumbled in a Southern, grounder accent. "Predacons ought to just do their own thing, and bipeds do theirs. We couldn't mix well, you know."

Grimwing was frustrated by this attitude that was much like Blackbeak's, but at least the Predacon successfully escorted them under the equatorial storm. The three had been uncomfortable underground, but Grimwing was the only one not immediately excited to come out on the other side. Once again, he checked for Shrikebots, and froze up when there was one seen on the wing.

It did not pay them any mind or see Storm. Cautiously, Grimwing took the energon processors into his claws and rose into the sky with both Storm and Blackbeak on his back. In the North, there were often Predacons to be seen in any direction. Territorial, viscous Predacons, and it took no time before three came flying toward the slow-flying Grimwing.

Storm gasped and hugged Blackbeak. Surprised, the grey Predacon folded his wings all around him and hid him from sight.

"You!" spat their first challenger. "Think you can hunt on our land?"

"No, I am not hunting. Only passing through," Grimwing replied.

"You are lying. I saw you flying slow and looking all around."

"Only because I am carrying many things."

A sharp-faced Predacon growled, "I smell biped."

"Yes," Grimwing answered. "There is one riding upon my back."

"What?" they snapped.

"Are you _insane_?"

"Put it back where it came from! Prima will have our heads!"

"He is my... 'companion'," Grimwing replied calmly. "I would never hurt him."

Predacons did not have a word for _friend_. The closest one could get was companion, its origin from _fellow hunter_. The meaning was more like hunting partner, so Grimwing had said it hesitantly. At that, the three Predacons cackled.

"Are you such a poor hunter that you need a biped's help to find prey?"

"He is not going to hurt it though. Smart enough for that at least."

It was not worth Grimwing's time to explain everything to random Predacons. They would laugh and be dismissive, and might not have believed that he could understand the biped. Change could only happen with the Predaking's support. Grimwing continued flying, and while they mocked him, they did not attack him. The trio travelled unharmed through the dangerous North, drawing nearer to the Predaking's large territory.

Once they arrived at the border, Grimwing knew that something was not right. Unfamiliar followers of the Predaking patrolled the border, and on the ground, Grimwing could see the body of a Predacon (Scourge) on display as a warning. He whined uneasily, and Blackbeak leaned over Storm as a response.

"What is it?" Blackbeak chirped.

"The Predacons- I don't know them."

The new followers spotted them, screeched, and hurried closer.

"You there! What is your intent in approaching the land of the Predaking?" one hollered.

Grimwing called back, "I am a follower of the Predaking, lost to the Winds! My name is Grimwing, and I have returned with news!"

"News?"

It was the best word to hold them off from attacking. The two new followers pressed in on either side of him, flying him into the territory with occasional tail whacks and air nips. Without knowing him, they warned him that they would not hesitate to tear him apart if he made any false moves. Grimwing glanced down, spark pulsing as he saw more unfamiliar Predacons, and none of the old followers.

At last, they came toward the Predaking's camp. At the sight of Twinstrike's golden body, Grimwing rejoiced. Finally, someone he knew. He called out a greeting screech and landed, and Twinstrike instantly gasped and bounded toward him.

"Grimwing? Is that you? You are alive?"

Backlash was nearby, saw him, and too hurried forward to circle him. But they were not affectionate, merely stunned. Very soon, they began demanding questions.

"What is _that_?" Twinstrike glared at his back. Blackbeak slowly opened his wings to reveal what the others had scented.

"A biped!" Backlash shrieked. "What have you done?"

Twinstrike growled, "He cannot be here! When the Predaking finds out, he will be furious! Take it back to its kingdom!"

Storm, understanding nothing, was frightened by the snarling and shrieking. Seeing that he was becoming scared, Twinstrike cried, "Grimwing! This is breaking the Oath!"

"He is only frightened because of the sounds. If you could just calm down… I swear, he is not here against his will."

"What do you mean?" Twinstrike demanded.

"I understand his language. I have always been able to since I was created with bipeds."

Twinstrike glared at him. "The Predaking must see you. Backlash! Find a Shrikebot to deliver a message to him. Have the Shrikebot say that Grimwing has returned with a biped on his back, claiming to be able to understand it."

Backlash headed off. Twinstrike said, "The Predaking is in the Cold Lands. There was a terrible battle while you were gone, where most of us were killed and the Predaking nearly lost his position. We won and absorbed the enemy's land into ours. We are more powerful now than before, but we lost good fighters like Ripclaw."

"Ripclaw?" Grimwing breathed, feeling his spark tighten.

"Yes, a shame," Twinstrike stated matter-of-factly.

The truth was, most Predacons did not form caring bonds with others. No one else was particularly saddened by her loss, but Grimwing was immediately affected. Ripclaw was not the kindest, but still she had saved him from the Predaking long ago.

Blackbeak was surprised when Grimwing dipped his head and shut his eyes.

Twinstrike did not ask more questions until the Predaking returned. Grimwing lay down, and Storm came down to sit between his arms. Blackbeak stood beside them and snapped his beak at all Predacons that gawked at them from the distance.

When the Predaking had heard the message, he had come as swiftly as he could. He entered the scene screeching in rage; Storm gasped and grabbed Grimwing as the largest Predacon of all crashed onto the ground before them with curling claws, parted jaws, and orange in his throat.

"Grimwing! Take the biped away immediately! How could you be so foolish, breaking the Oath and testing Prima? Now, before I tear you apart and do it myself!"

Grimwing shuffled backward on his stomach. "I did not break the Oath. He wants to be here."

He had not expected that the Predaking would be so angry with him. Storm quaked as the Predaking rose high and flapped his wings.

"Now, Grimwing!"

"I am not breaking the Oath!" Grimwing cried. "You are!"

The Predaking narrowed his eyes and hissed. "What?"

The large Predacon stalked closer, body tensed to tear apart the insolent Predacon.

"You are the one scaring him." Grimwing avoided eye contact for dear life. "But he does not fear me at all. Look, he holds me for protection. We are companions."

The Predaking paused to glance at the biped. Its terrified, red eyes were locked only on the Predaking as it pressed into Grimwing's chest. The orange in the Predaking's throat died out.

"Where did you find it?" the Predaking demanded. "Why does it trust you?"

"He is from the South," Grimwing said. "I was blown to the other side by the Winds."

"The South? You were there?"

"Yes, a quiet place with few Predacons, but strong bipedal kingdoms. There was one that was so vicious that they would kill their own. I saved his life; his name is Storm."

"You named it?" the Predaking sneered distastefully.

"No, he told me his name. When I was created, I could understand their language. And now, he has taught me how to communicate with him."

"How can that be possible?"

"I can prove it, my king." Grimwing bowed his head. "I can translate anything, scratching the ground in a way so that he understands."

"I do not understand this nonsense."

"It is a way of communicating. You see the language."

"You cannot see languages," the Predaking muttered.

"Allow me to prove it. I can ask the biped to do anything you ask."

"Is that so?" he rumbled. "Very well. Make him stop shivering. Have him step forward and stand before me."

Grimwing gulped. He could translate, but how could he encourage Storm when he was so afraid? First, he nuzzled him, rubbing his beak against his head. He squeezed him gently between his arms, before the Predaking snapped, "Get on with it!"

"It is okay," he purred to Storm as gently as the Predacon language allowed. Still holding him, he pointed at the ground until Storm looked. He began to write to him.

_He wants you to stop being afraid. Try to stop shaking, little Storm. No one will hurt you. He is angry because he does not believe me, so prove that you understand by walking forward and standing in front of me._

The Predaking's claws dug into the ground in impatience as Grimwing took the time to write his message. Then, seconds after he had finished, the biped walked forward and stood in front of the Predaking. He was stiff, holding himself and looking at the ground. The Predaking's eyes widened, clearing of fury.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I can teach you to be able to do the same," Grimwing murmured. "You can learn his language and how to see words."

The Predaking leaned back. "No, Grimwing. Take the biped to the nearest kingdom. He cannot be here."

"My king, through him we can unite our races. This is an incredible opportunity to learn things we never could imagine. The visible language is just the beginning."

"I said no." The Predaking stood high again. "We must keep the races separate to honour the Oath."

"The Oath says nothing about being separate. Only that we cannot frighten, hunt, harm, or kill them."

"He will be frightened to be here," the Predaking growled. "And any unification between our races is sure to result in several bipeds being killed. You know that there are a few Predacons who would break the Oath, thinking nothing about the rest of us."

"I do know this, but bipeds have been killed before. Prima did not come because you punished the killers. I think he is more merciful than we think, and in the past only said such a severe thing to frighten the Predacons. He would allow this, I think."

"Do not assume what Prima thinks. We take no risks that endanger our kind. Prima appeared while you were gone, Grimwing. It seems that he frightened Skystalker's army away to give me my victory"- this he said with complete bitterness and no gratitude- "so he is active, close, and watching."

"He has given Predacons a chance many times," Grimwing said. "When bipeds were killed or frightened, and when you were nearly overthrown by who I assume was an evil Predacon. If you continue controlling most Predacons and killing the bad ones, then we will be forgiven as in the past. But truly, I think Predacons must open up to this idea of unification. We gain respect for each other when we understand each other's emotions. Predacons will become less aggressive. And with the creations of bipeds, we no longer have to hunt. We can get the best energon possible."

"No hunting? Why would we want that?" the Predaking interrupted. "This is foolish, Grimwing. Predacons have nothing to learn from the bipeds. We have everything we need, or are you implying that the bipeds are better than our mighty race?"

"They simply are, my king. They know much more than we do."

The Predaking was already growling, eyes glowing harshly at his statement.

"They are _not_ superior!"

"Look at this." Grimwing pushed forward one of the energon processors, filled with energon. "We can drink this without getting sick. It is delicious and gives us more energy than consuming prey, and they created it."

"I do not care."

"It uses energy from the sun to turn crystal energon into liquid!"

The Predaking's brows twitched. "That is impossible."

"Predacons think many things are impossible, but the bipeds know it is not."

Hating to be wrong, the Predaking growled again.

"We do not need any of this," he spat.

Blackbeak squawked, "Won't you even try it? Claws and blazes, I thought no one could be more stubborn than me!"

The Predaking had never heard the Southern dialect before and had hardly understood him. He glared at the tiny Predacon, his face showing clearly how he barely respected him as one.

"What did it say?" he uttered.

Grimwing was too nervous to translate.

"_Woncthee ev' trrry i'?_" Blackbeak cried again.

"What is it saying?" the Predaking demanded.

"_He_ says… Perhaps you should try it."

"Try what, exactly?"

Grimwing replied, "Learning about the bipeds… We think you should give it a try before pushing away the idea. Would it not please you to have more knowledge than other Predacons?"

The Predaking exhaled. Yes, he did like having an edge over everyone else. Grimwing had to hide the fact that he wanted to teach all Predacons, just for the sake of starting with the Predaking.

"If I learned their language," the Predaking uttered. "Then I suppose, they would never be able to hide anything from me. I would understand them. And if I learned everything that they knew, then I would become vastly more superior than them."

Grimwing hated his logic, but he had to work with it.

"Yes, my king. But it will take time."

In a better mood, the Predaking now answered, "Time? You are young, Grimwing, and cannot understand how long I have lived on this world. I will learn this language eventually, and it will serve me in my eternal reign."

He tried not to sigh in relief. "Yes, no doubt that you are intelligent enough to quickly learn it, my Predaking."

"I am the most intelligent Predacon there is," he hissed. "I created the foundation of our own language; I can learn another."

The Predaking looked expectantly at Storm.

"Grimwing, make it begin teaching me."

He wrote and Storm turned to read.

_Start teaching him._

Storm shuddered, glanced that the looming, fanged face, then looked away. He could tell that the Predaking cared nothing about him, and that was why he could not stop being afraid. The Predacon was only leaving him unharmed because he obeyed Prima; otherwise, he would have eaten him right then and there. Grimwing was aware as well that the Predaking knew the taste of bipedal blood. He hated how scornful and predatory his eyes were when he looked at Storm, or how he kept calling him an 'it'.

"O-okay," Storm began, trying to find strength and speak louder.

"What did it say?" the Predaking cut in.

"I will translate everything," Grimwing said. "Please, allow _him_ the chance to speak a little first."

The Predaking dragged his tail over the ground and grumbled.

"The first letters, right, Grimwing?" Storm whispered.

He nodded and told the Predaking, "He will start introducing you to the sounds of his language. He will show you how to scratch the ground to show each sound as well."

The Predaking said, "I would like to learn a few words today."

"That, that may be difficult," Grimwing murmured. "You cannot yet tell the difference between the sounds-"

"How do they say 'Predacon'?" he asked.

Grimwing wrote to Storm so that he said the word aloud, repeating it and saying it slowly.

"Now, make it say 'king'."

After Storm had, the Predaking continued, "'am'."

Then, "I."

"I am the Predaking."

When Storm voiced the sentence, the Predaking understood nothing.

"Where did he say Predacon? And did he say 'I' first?"

"Yes, my king. The action word does not come in the beginning of their sentences."

"That is illogical. You must wait to hear what is being done!"

"Well, in our language, you have to wait to hear _who_ is doing the action."

"The Predacon language is superior," he growled. "It is more logical."

Grimwing said, "Both get the meaning across. Neither language is better."

"Have him speak in the Predacon way."

"It… isn't so simple."

"Rearrange the words," the Predaking commanded.

"But… the structure does not allow that. And, well, Storm does not know the grammar of our language anyway."

The Predaking quivered in frustration. "How many times will you attempt to correct me?"

"He's just stating what can't be helped," Blackbeak squawked. It was easier to support Grimwing when he could see someone overreacting more strongly than he had. "You don't need to be so crazy about it. Suck it up, Predabutt."

"What did he say?" the Predaking asked.

Grimwing blinked. "Ahh… That you can do it if you put your mind to it. You just have to accept the differences. So my king, would you like to start from the beginning?"

"Fine," he hissed. "The sounds. Teach me them."


	15. Chapter 14: Azure

Skystalker and Azure had spent the next five years in misery and pain. There seemed to be no safe place for them anywhere in the world, not with the Predaking's Shrikebots in the North and the South, searching for them and forcing other Predacons to look out for them. They were wanted criminals who lived in the underground, daring to crawl to the sunlight only when their longing for the sky became too great. It was hard, as flying Predacons, and mostly they hunted pathetically small prey in the tunnels.

They were poor navigators underground and were always lost, and knew as well that they could run into trouble at any time. Just that day, they had been attacked by a pack of ground type Predacons who recognized them. Skystalker got the worst of it, with his tail and back leg torn to shreds. He tried to recover, but his knee had been ground, bent back, and burned with acid. One savage bite from a Predacon, and Skystalker feared that he would never be able to fight again.

That fear was enough to put any Predacon into a state of depression. Azure returned with a few zap-rats dangling from her mouth, and he muttered at her, "Why do you help me?"

She set them down near his tired face. "What makes you ask this?"

"You could kill me whenever you liked."

"I could have done that even before you were injured," she replied.

Skystalker sighed, "You must think I am pathetic, as a Predacon. Perhaps you want to end me."

"Do not be foolish. Eat and rest."

"I might not ever recover. What would you do, if your leader was never able to hunt or fight for himself again?"

Azure's green gaze pierced through the darkness. "I do not care about that, Skystalker. It was always your mind that I respected."

"Would you stay with me?"

"Yes."

His stress seemed to dissipate. Skystalker sank down with his head over his arm. Knowing that he was safe made him able to think clearly again.

"I promise you that I will think of a way out of this," he told Azure. "We will once again live under the sky and spread our wings."

"I cannot think of a way for that to be possible, but I trust you."

* * *

Grimwing's life in the next five years were peaceful yet frustrating. It was no easy task teaching those who were too prideful to put in much effort. The Predaking wanted to know the language, but seemed to want it to magically enter his mind. That was the attitude of many of the Predaking's followers who crept in for some lessons. Some gave up entirely, but Twinstrike surprised Grimwing by being the most studious.

He was determined to understand the interactions between Grimwing and Storm, thus gave it his all. Twinstrike got ahead of the Predaking and hung near Storm to listen to him as much as possible. The golden Predacon, as it turned out, had been bubbling with scientific questions for all of his long life.

"Where does the sun go at night?" he asked, along with things like, "Why does energon become hard?" and "What are the lights in the night sky?"

When the biped proved to know the answers, Twinstrike gained respect for the smaller lifeform. It was hard for Grimwing to translate everything, however, so they created jargon amongst themselves such as a word for _electromagnetic_.

The Predaking grew jealous to have Twinstrike surpass him, but he failed to see that his own stubbornness was getting in the way. Grimwing withheld constant sighs whenever the Predaking insulted the language when it was different than theirs. Different was, to him, illogical. Others were stupid to not do it his way, and nothing Grimwing did could change his attitude.

Storm learned pieces of their language through Grimwing, but kept the knowledge to himself. He eavesdropped on the Predaking's fits and gathered just how racist he was. There was a night Storm was fed up with it, and he told Grimwing, "Your leader is the most one-dimensional, close-minded bot I have ever met. Even the tyrant council where I came from didn't act like young sparks."

Grimwing liked the privacy of their cave; they could talk frankly in here. The same cave that Skystalker had lain in was their new home, for all three were happiest under a roof. The other Predacons scorned them for liking it, but it kept them away.

"I know," Grimwing growled back in his language, using simple words so his friend could practice. "But no one understands that. They think it is normal, Predacon-like. If you are strong, then you are right."

"I hate him," Storm murmured. "He's never going to change, Grimwing."

The Predacon always loved hearing his name, translated and said in that chime-like language. It was hard to stay angry about the subject when it was so fun to vent with Storm. Unfortunately, it was hard for Blackbeak to join them. He understood quite a lot now, trying harder just because he wanted to best the Predaking. Still, the big words escaped him.

Storm added, "He has been around for a long time."

"Yes, hundreds of seasons." Grimwing nodded. He could not even imagine that time length. He wrote, _But Twinstrike is just as old, and he is changing. Maybe there is hope? Please, we just need more patience._

"How long do you think it will take?" Storm murmured.

Grimwing felt his spark clench. Was Storm lonely here, without others of his kind? He must have been bored and sickened by the other Predacons. Maybe he was not enough to make him happy.

"Do you want to go?" Grimwing rumbled.

"No, I know that this is important," Storm exhaled. "I just… I hate him so much."

"He will see."

"I don't know about that," Blackbeak said. "The Predaking barely allows Storm to be here. And your goal isn't just to teach him, it's to get him to unite the races. But look, it's obvious that he has zero interest in it. Maybe you should just help Storm find a home and let the races be separate. There's no harm in that."

"But they cannot remain separate! They just cannot!" Grimwing cried. "I feel it inside me that we are so alike each other. Our sparks are the same. We are equal, whether other Predacons like it or not."

"Come on, our sparks aren't the same," Blackbeak said. "We are definitely different."

"We are _equal_, Blackbeak! Do you really think like the Predaking that you are superior to Storm?"

"Well, of course I _like_ Storm, but we have to look out for him, you know. Predacons were just made stronger."

"Stronger does not mean better!" Grimwing hollered. "What are you saying? I thought you changed your mind! What did you come with me for, if you did not want our races to unite?"

Storm's wings had fallen in worry as he watched the Predacons snarling and hissing at each other, unable to catch the core of the argument. He heard his name and grew more concerned.

"I still like you all," Blackbeak stressed. "And I wanted the adventure of travelling here, but you know, maybe you're just special. It's completely fine if you want to befriend bipeds, but I don't think it is good for us to try to live among them. Not me, but other Predacons can't help themselves. Instinct is just too strong, and I think they could not stop themselves from eating them!"

"You have agreed with the Predaking all this time?"

"Why are you surprised? I have always told you we are different! I still don't want your bland energon, right? I am a Predacon!"

"Are you saying that I am not?" Grimwing snapped. "I do not have to kill things to be a Predacon!"

"I was not trying to insult you!" Blackbeak groaned. "I was just saying that all Predacons besides you have their own way of living! You are trying to force an unnatural life upon us..."

"Who says this way of living is natural? How do you know if it is natural or just how you were raised? I believe all Predacons are just making excuses so that they can keep doing as they please!"

"Open your eyes, Grimwing. Look at us. Look at our claws and beaks, and the size of the average Predacon. Do you really think creatures like us should live with the lot of them?" Blackbeak pointed a talon at Storm.

"I do," Grimwing uttered. "We can change."

"Most Predacons cannot."

"I just know that our sparks are the same," Grimwing continued. "No one wants to believe it because they want to feel good about themselves. I was created with the knowledge of their language inside me. I believe being forged with them opened my spark and made me see them as equals. And that knowledge of the language might just well be in _every_ Predacon! And all you have to do to unlock it is just realize that we are not special!"

"Sounds like scrap to me," Blackbeak grumbled. "You are unique, that is all. Why would we know a language impossible for us to speak? My voice could never make the sounds Storm can."

Grimwing was ready to keep arguing, but then Storm growled in his best Predacon, "Why are you saying my name?"

Blackbeak jumped. "What? Did he just-?"

"He practices, you know, while you are hunting," Grimwing muttered. But he swelled up in pride, since Storm rarely tried repeating the sounds himself. It had sounded quite good even.

"Could he understand us this whole time?" Blackbeak gawked.

"No, not everything," Grimwing replied. "But, does it bother you that he might have heard you insulting his race? Because you should be ashamed, speaking about our friend that way and behind his back."

Blackbeak folded in his wings and twitched his tail.

Grimwing murmured, "As long as the Predaking believes what he does, he will kill me if I try to unify the races against his will. If I do not succeed here in changing his mind, then there is no hope."

"Do what you want," Blackbeak grumbled. "But know I was thinking of Storm too, you know. It is probably hard on him to live here."

Storm saw Grimwing cast him a saddened, guilty look. The biped padded closer and put his hands over his arm. "I'm sorry for complaining. I see that it is upsetting you, but don't feel bad. I just liked running my mouth. If the argument was my fault… then I am even more sorry."

Everything felt better when Grimwing lay on his side with his smaller friend snuggled between his arms. This way how they always slept, where both could comfort each other after the times of stress. Usually Blackbeak joined in somehow, against his stomach or back, but today he felt too awkward to come close. He watched and regretted what he had said, even if it was what he believed. The tension was unbearable, but he let the night pass sleeping in the corner, before he apologized in the morning.

* * *

Azure peeked outside and saw that there were no enemy Predacons in sight. She took off but soared low over the ground, warily searching for large prey since hunting was so difficult for them underground. Often, they were energon-deprived, unless they lucked out and found a sleeping Insecticon. This day, she came across something so unexpected that it shocked her: a field, filled with the bodies of dead bipeds. Here, there had been battle, but the losing side had not come back for their dead yet.

She crept forward and looked around herself. No other Predacons had dared come near, not since Prima's recent appearance and the Predaking's return to glory. Yet she was so starved and eager to taste the forbidden prey. _The Oath is not being broken_, she convinced herself as well.

In case she would get caught dragging a body, she fed herself first. Azure saw no wrong in it either, since she needed to be strong to hunt for two. The energon was crusty; the bodies were old, but the taboo in what she was doing excited her. She believed that they tasted exceptional, and once she had had her fill, she snagged a small body and carried it back to their temporary home.

She growled in greeting, then set down the biped. Skystalker lifted himself up in surprise, although he could tell right away that she had not killed the bot.

"You found this?"

"Yes, and many like it. No other Predacons dared come near, so no one saw me."

Skystalker paused to examine the body, finding it pierced through the spark chamber by a sword thrust.

"So there are kingdoms up there at war," he mused. "And one side, too weak, could not come to recover their dead."

"Consume it, Skystalker. At last, you can satisfy your curiosity."

"Hold on," he murmured. "There is a kingdom on the surface that is in danger. They would be desperate to survive."

"And?" she prompted him.

"If we save the weak kingdom during battle, then they will let us join them. If we can get their protection, then the Predaking could never come after us!"

"Live with the bipeds? Is this what you are suggesting?"

"Look at it this way," Skystalker said. "There will be fresh bodies for us to consume."

"But if we kill, then will Prima not come for us?"

"Ah, but in saving other bipeds, how can Prima despise us? If he really cared so much about the two-legs, then why does he not stop them from killing each other?"

"This sounds too risky. I do not like it."

"What does it matter?" he growled. "It is the only way for us to live under the sky again. If Prima kills us, at least it will be fast and everyone goes down with us. Look at where we are, Azureflame. We have nothing more to lose..."

* * *

Storm had been teaching the Predaking with simple example sentences for a long time. Now, he wondered if he could use this time tactfully to educate the Predaking on other matters to change him. Twinstrike was here too, but he did not ever speak when the Predaking was around and blasting his own questions.

"I want to tell you about Onyx Prime," Storm announced.

Grimwing felt recognition flare in his spark. "Did you tell me this before?"

Storm paused, taking a moment to understand him. The Predaking stared as Storm answered, "No, I never told you about our history. But I think it is relevant now."

"What?" the Predaking muttered.

"Onyx Prime," Storm said slowly.

Catching it better, the Predaking felt his body shiver. He thought that he might have heard this name before. Had Prima said it? Their fight had happened so long ago that the Predaking had forgotten even his voice. _Onyx Prime_… _Onyx Prime_… Why did those sounds make his spark tingle? Even Twinstrike had perked up at the name.

"What is that?" the Predaking demanded.

"A powerful bot from long ago," Storm began, and Grimwing translated each line just in case. "A Prime is a bot like Prima. Except Onyx was different, because he was large and like a Predacon."

The Predaking wrinkled his brows, trying to imagine a beastly Prima.

"Onyx Prime is said to be the origin of all animalistic life in the world," Storm went on. "Predacons are the most like Onyx Prime, it seems."

The Predaking asked, "So this bot, was he the strongest of them all? Stronger than Prima?"

Grimwing wrote a translation.

"No," replied Storm. "The Primes were equal in battle because of their different skills."

"Was he not the largest?" the Predaking asked after the next translation.

"He was physically the strongest, perhaps, but Onyx could not defeat the others. They were equal."

"How can that be?" he growled, not pleased with the direction of the story.

"Prima is strong, smart, and quick. Alpha Trion can foresee bits of the future. Solus Prime can create unbeatable weapons and invincible armour… Do you see now?"

The Predaking said, "Onyx Prime should have found a way to overpower them. How could he have lived with those weaker than him being equal to him?"

"Because they were his friends," answered Storm. "Onyx Prime loved them."

There was no word in the Predacon language for _love_ of another bot. They could love actions like hunting and fighting, but just like how _friend_ was not well understood by their culture, so was this. When Grimwing translated, it came out strangely. The Predaking displayed a perplexed expression.

"He never wanted to hurt them," Storm continued. "Onyx Prime was kind and did not want to fight his brethren."

"Brethren? But they were different."

"They were the same."

The Predaking rose up, furious to be disagreed with. He wanted to smack the biped, but had to restrain himself to yelling, "They are _different_!"

"Onyx Prime did not think so."

"He was wrong then, a fool who wasted his power!"

It frustrated the Predaking to hear of someone more powerful than him not dominating others, when he was jealous and wanted that power himself.

Storm sighed and gave up. After they continued a normal lesson, the Predaking flew off to practice battling his followers. Once again, he forced Grimwing to come with him to keep him strong. Storm and Blackbeak waited until he returned to the cave, and there, Storm lay between Grimwing's arms.

He told him, "You are more like Onyx Prime than any other Predacon, and that is an honour."

"It is," Grimwing replied. Although this was the first he had heard of Onyx Prime, his spark felt that this bot was very noble and gentle, which was exactly what he strove to be.

* * *

Azure found the weaker kingdom under siege that night. The walls were surrounded by an aggressive army of huge bots covered in armour, stationed there and depriving the kingdom of resources. She could see frightened bots guarding the top, waiting by blasters but worried about using them because of their energon shortage. It was clear that the attacking side was considering charging in, for they were anxious and gestured toward the gate.

She reported her finding to Skystalker. He limped to the surface with her, and they lay down far from the army but in sight of them.

"So I shall attack them from the sky?" Azure asked.

"Yes, burn them to the ground. But you have to make it obvious that you are aligned on one side. Fly a few times over the kingdom without attacking them- that should get the message across."

Azure rocked with excitement, barely able to believe that this was what they were committing to. Well, if Prima killed them, at least she would die finally slaughtering these creatures who had dared think it was their right to live free and unhunted. With that in mind, she would kill as many as she possibly could.

The silver Predacon flared her white wings and launched into the sky. Flapping and soaring in a direct line, the approaching Predacon was spotted by the soldiers. They shifted and looked at each other, but did not run because Predacons were largely known to avoid their kind. However, its head seemed to be angled at them. For all purposes, it appeared to be targeting them, even descending to come closer. Weapons were gripped in nervousness, but the Predacon did not dive-bomb to pick off someone. Instead, Azure retracted her teeth and opened her mouth wide. The hottest fire of any known Predacon shot out her mouth, a stream of tight blue that looked as cold as deep frozen ice.

It struck the first row of soldiers as she swept by the fortress, inciting multiple screams at once. When it touched faces, most bots were promptly killed. Others who were scorched terribly rolled and screeched as the hot metal burnt into their innards. The Predacon came lower, letting the heat hit the soldiers in stronger force. Turning her head carefully, dozens were taken down before they could target her. Weapons collapsed as bots perished or grasped themselves, and those close to the fire hollered and began running. Chaos ensued as soldiers crashed and tripped over each other, too panicked to hear their roaring commander. Azure's huge body followed the sides of the fortress, soaring past awed wallguards who could even feel the wind from her wings. They watched their enemies be torn down by the fire on each side, too shocked to make a sound.

No one on the ground knew how to handle Predacon attacks, since they never happened. Bots did not think of how to defeat her, only of how to escape. Nevertheless, no one could flee quickly when no one knew how to transform. Wheeled and winged bots sprinted and took off their armour to run faster. Those riding mechanimals were the luckier ones, who could scatter and flee like bullets. The majority of the soldiers heard the fire burning near, a rumbling that came with screams, and they were then consumed by it.

When the kingdom was surrounded by a large amount of bodies, Azure returned to the ground. It had been a push to keep up that fire for so long, so now she decided to stop. With claws and teeth, the Predacon slaughtered the groaning and collapsed soldiers. Her eyes gleamed with a sadistic craze as she gleefully broke apart the bodies. She shrieked and leapt, and energon flew up wherever she landed. Skystalker crawled into the open, watching her with admiration.

Azure had checked to make sure every bot lying around was dead. Then, she galloped to join Skystalker near the main gate.

"You are a dangerous Predacon," he said.

That was a high compliment to her. She straightened up, then asked, "Now what?"

"Just lay down, and be quiet when they come. Let's not let them know that we are so intelligent. That we have a language."

The two Predacons waited, heads tilting up to the top of the battlements. The bipeds up there were horrified by what had happened, but they had not been attacked, so they knew that by now they were safe. After a long while, the gates opened and a few bipeds padded out. They shook for they were unarmed, and knew that even if they had been armed, they could have been killed. They set down energon cubes by the Predacons, then hopped back.

Azure watched Skystalker for instructions. He limped forward and dug his teeth into the cube, so she too moved forward and chewed on the peace offering. Both wanted to complain, but then realized that there was nothing bad about the energon itself. It was tolerable.

They did not finish, but they picked up the cubes and stalked closer to the bipeds. They moved back, the Predacons came forward, and they retreated again. Slowly, they walked past the gates into the midst of a bipedal village. They stood and looked around as all the smaller bots gawked at them. They saw the roads and the houses, and Skystalker found himself impressed by their capabilities.

_Perhaps I could learn something here_, he thought.

A golden biped with white-speckled wings approached them. Both Predacons stayed still and tried to look as harmless as possible. She was Stardust the Gold, leader of the small kingdom of inventors. Skystalker was impressed again, this time by how she came right up to him just to examine his mangled leg.

"I understand," Stardust told the nearest villagers. "The Predacons want us to heal this one."

"Are they really that smart?" one blinked.

"Get a doctor over here," she commanded. "Everyone else! Get out now quickly to collect energon, now that the enemy has fallen!"

Bots spread the word and scattered. The Predacons did not understand them, but they saw bots rushing out the gate with wagons. Then, the doctor arrived to have a look at Skystalker.

"I need this one to come with me," she told Stardust. "It needs to have its patches filled and metal reshaped."

The bipeds waved for them to follow them; the Predacons rose and obeyed, going down the road to the little hospital. Skystalker lay down outside, and the doctor came out with some assistants. Something was stuck into his thigh several times, pushing in liquid until his leg went numb. Azure and Skystalker watched the whole process as they placed his leg in its proper position and welded cuts of metal to him to replace his missing parts.

Under the sun they had missed, they found themselves patient and relaxed. Skystalker's leg was repaired and now looked excellent, but he needed rest, so he did not get up from his spot.

"Are you okay now?" Azure growled.

"Yes, I believe so."

Their growling worried the bipeds, and Skystalker did not want them to think these were words. Conversations had to be short. He waited a bit before adding, "Predacons could never have done that."

Skystalker had invented basic first aid in his kind, but this was so beyond him that he was interested in learning more.

The Predacons passed the time with their wings spread to soak up the pleasant heat of the sun. They listened to the sounds of celebration when they arose, as the bipeds finally realized that everything was going to be okay. Neither felt happy for them, but remained pleased with their own selfish victory. Their focus now was only on the coming night, the first in years that they got to pass sleeping under the moons.

Azure sighed, "I missed this."

"I did as well."

They let their bodies fall limp in the light of the street lamps, ready to recharge with the wind caressing them.

"How long will we stay here?" Azure asked.

Skystalker closed his eyes and answered with an unbothered tone, "Probably forever, going out only when we are near the bipeds. If we can get them to ride us, however, we could get out more. Who would attack us, if we carried them?"

"I could deal with that," she replied. Compared to their horrible losses and miserable years underground, this was a blessing, not to mention that she had gotten to massacre bipeds as a part of Skystalker's plan. He was a genius among the Predacons, and she was glad to have stuck with him for so long.

They ignored the blue, red, and yellow eyes watching them, to sleep the best sleep that they had in a long time.


	16. Chapter 15: Sunset

Skystalker had always had a strong interest in science, but the Predacon lifestyle had been so limiting, and he only realized it now. For weeks, as the bipeds recovered from their war, Skystalker and Azure gained their trust by acting peaceable. Yet is was more acting for Azure than for Skystalker, since he was truly enamoured by everything the bipeds made.

At a distance, it had been easy for him to scorn the bipeds and think of them as prey. Skystalker had been so willing to slaughter them, yet once he was among them, his feelings rapidly changed. Before, he had imagined them as pesky and deserving of suffering, but Skystalker had not known their complexities. So many emotions between them, a change of pace from usual Predacon aggression. Much more love, for each other, their animals, and even for him. But these bots, foremost, had given themselves purpose.

Life was not daily repetition of hunting and guarding territory. They had projects, goals, and an unending desire for truth. Once, he glimpsed one of them with a map of the stars with the constellations drawn on it. Skystalker jolted in surprise, for even he had never considered remembering the numerous night dots of the sky.

It was no trouble for him to lie still and rest his claws, completely forgetting the idea that these beings could be prey. They became sentient individuals to him that he could recognize by sight, who housed him and cared for him as a guest.

On the other hand, Azure was not adapting to bipedal life. For one, she was sick of eating energon cubes. When she could, she killed the tiny pests of the kingdom, the frizz-rats and glitch-mice that nibbled into technology. Not that a Predacon could live off such things; she continued taking the energon cubes but was hungry for metal. More than this, Azure often flapped her wings impatiently or did short flights around the fortress.

The ruler of the kingdom took more interest in Azure, for she was restless and clearly wanted to go out. And so a night came when Azure lay down, only for Stardust and a few others to approach her.

"What are they doing?" Azure hissed to Skystalker.

The bipeds began to take measurements.

"Let them do as they please," he rumbled. "Lift your wing."

He saw her claws tense as the smaller beings crawled over her. Her instinct was to bite and scratch, so he growled, "Relax."

Azure shut her eyes and forced herself to stay still. Once they had what they wanted, the bipeds left the Predacons to sleep.

When morning came, the group returned with parts. At Skystalker's instruction, Azure allowed the bipeds to install a saddle onto her back. Once it was secure, Stardust climbed into the seat and locked herself in.

"There," Skystalker told Azure. "Now, you can fly anywhere."

"Anywhere? Now?"

"Yes."

Azure spread her wings, and the leader bent down in apprehension. After bounding a few steps, the Predacon peeled off the ground and began to rise. She tried to ignore the biped on her back and focus on her freedom. Higher she flew while heading towards the walls that she had not dared pass these weeks. Then, she broke out into the land, flying as she pleased for the first time in years.

Stardust was a bipedal flier, thus was blown away by her first experience in the sky. Silently thrilled, she peered over the Predacon's back by leaning left and right. The kingdom grew tiny, then disappeared as they carried on into the distance. She had no idea of the danger, that this Predacon was like a wanted criminal among its kind. When shrieks of alarm broke out around them, Stardust jolted when she saw several Predacons flying straight for them.

She pressed against Azure and prayed that the huge beast would protect her. The other Predacons slowed as they came nearer, spotting what was on her back. At that, Azure's eyes sparked with excitement and she roared, "That is right! Dare attack me and risk harming this creature! Prima's wrath will be upon you!"

The other draconic Predacons flapped in the air, glancing at one another.

"The Predaking will hear of this!" one snarled.

Azure shrieked and blasted the speaker with intense fire. It was instinct for them to react, but there was no way they could fight back. Knowing this, Azure chased them, slashing and biting them as they fled from her. At times, they dared spin and cut Azure's underbelly, all while Stardust watched on in fearful amazement. After they had scattered, Azure decided she better get back to Skystalker. It seemed way too simple now that the Predaking would just leave her alone because of the biped on her back. After what they had done to him, surely, the Predaking would do everything in his power to terminate her.

While the other Predacons sought out a Shrikebot messenger, Azure dropped off the kingdom's ruler and found Skystalker.

He decided, "We will stick around here until he shows up to the walls. We challenge him, and if we get into trouble, these bipeds will shoot him. If we are lucky, a good shot might end him."

* * *

After the taste of freedom, it was torturous for Azure to stay within the walls. Walls felt like the tunnels had, trapping her despite the fresh air constantly surrounding her now. She had thought she would be happy, but happiness was not coming to her as she had hoped. She was much too feral, and Skystalker could not understand why she was not entertained when there was much to see within the village.

His calmness was why the common people favoured him. Skystalker was always around and did not twitch and growl to frighten them. When Azure was off on her own, some shy villagers dared to pet him on the arm, and all he ever did was glance over without hissing. Then they grew more comfortable, touching his face and stroking his beak.

His spark felt a little warm that they liked having him around, without him needing to prove himself in any way. That was new for him, to be welcomed and appreciated for doing nothing. Physical affection was also foreign, where touching for the sake of it was rare among Predacons. They were sharp, of spikes, horns, claws, and teeth. But these flat hands and round fingers were inconceivably gentle, and he liked the pets more each time.

Someone tried to stroke Azure once, and she jerked back and hissed. She was surprised when Skystalker shot her a glare, but she received a worse reaction from him at a later time. There was a night when the two were alone, when villagers had vacated the area to work elsewhere or recharge. A villager's rusthound had escaped from its home and gotten lost, and Azure spotted it sniffing at a corner. She began to prowl, green eyes glinting in predatory glee. That was when Skystalker snarled and slammed his forefeet down on her tail.

Spooked, the rusthound bounded away as Azure turned on Skystalker.

"What are you doing?" she snapped. "You scared off my prey!"

He hissed, "You cannot hunt one of the bipeds' companion animals!"

"And why not?" Azure growled. "No one would have seen me kill it. I would not have gotten in trouble."

Skystalker had always been about logic, so she thought he would agree. His response to Azure drifted in another direction.

"The bipeds care deeply about their animals," he growled. "You cannot kill them."

"It is just a stupid rusthound," Azure uttered. "Why should anyone care about it?"

"They walk with these creatures, play with them, and take them into their shelters."

"And?" Azure spat, bitter that she still had nothing to tear into. "What is the point in that?"

He gave up, for the concept was beyond her.

* * *

The next day, the bipeds came to install armour onto Azure: pieces to cover her joints, extra plating around her body, and a helmet with a visor to protect her face. Skystalker stared in awe, and for once, Azure was impressed by the bipeds. She looked untouchable now with all her weak points covered, and ready to fight the Predaking on her own.

The people of the kingdom whooped at the imposing figure of their leader, who rode in battle gear upon a huge, armoured Predacon. Azure thought the praise was for her, the strongest one among them, so she puffed out her chest. Skystalker knew better, but only told her, "Their leader might want to attack the enemy kingdom now. Go wherever you are led."

It was only a test flight that day, where Stardust nudged the Predacon to see if it would obey her. It did, to her satisfaction. When she returned, she told the nearby folk, "This one is smart enough to understand instructions. I believe I can do battle with it."

"You should take Blue instead," someone replied while gesturing at Skystalker. "He's much smarter and tamer."

"Ah, but I like this one's spirit," Stardust said of Azure. "And this one is certainly stronger, and with its blue fire, it can destroy our enemies once and for all."

* * *

In another part of the world, news reached the Predaking that Azure had been seen, flying in the open with a biped on her back. At once, he gathered a battle army and forced Grimwing into it, for he remained a remarkably fit and powerful Predacon.

"We should take Storm with us," Grimwing told him. "That way, he could quickly explain anything to the other bipeds."

"Take the biped into battle?" the Predaking snarled. "That is a foolish idea."

"There might not have to be a battle…"

"Skystalker must be with her!" the Predaking roared. "Do you not realize who these Predacons are? They are the ones who nearly destroyed my domain! They slaughtered almost all of my original followers, ready to create a ruleless reign where Predacons could prey upon the bipeds!"

Grimwing widened his eyes.

The Predaking growled, "You of all Predacons should care about that. Another point of interest for you, it was Azure who killed Ripclaw."

He dipped his head, and the Predaking hissed conclusively, "We are going to kill them, _not_ negotiate. I do not care if a biped rides her back, for it is clear that she is using it as a shield! So we will tear her head from her body, killing her without harming the biped. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he murmured. He did not understand, however, for killing seemed meaningless.

Blackbeak hoped close to Grimwing, but the Predaking forbade him from coming. He would stay with the biped in the territory until their return. As for Storm, he did not really know what was happening, except that Grimwing was going somewhere. When the Predaking gathered the strongest Predacons in a V-formation, then Storm realized that they were departing for battle.

"Why do you have to go?" he gasped to Grimwing.

He started the write into the ground, but the Predaking screeched, "Forward!"

All the Predacons pushed onward and opened their wings. Without time for farewell, Grimwing was swept into the crowd and headed for distant lands.

Grimwing had not realized until later, with a jolt of his spark, that all his energon processors had been left with Storm. He would have to manage the trip without refueling, and hopefully they would be back in no time. It was a miserable ordeal regardless. Although Azure had killed a friend, it had been in one of those pointless, Predacon battles. Predacons were always killing Predacons, so Ripclaw herself was probably just as guilty. Perhaps Azure had done it out of self-defense. Even if she had murdered Ripclaw, why must death be the answer to all Predacon problems?

They took a rest in the night. All the other Predacons hunted and brought back prey, and the Predaking glared at Grimwing's empty claws.

"Do you not want to be as strong as possible for tomorrow?"

Grimwing replied, "Pure energon provides me with more energy. I do not need energon every day to stay strong."

The Predaking tossed his head. Grimwing curled up and pretended to sleep, but he was too anxious for the next day that he got little rest that night.

One of the Shrikebots helped guide them on the journey, reporting back that he had seen glimpses of Azure in the distance, flying around the kingdom, though without sign of Skystalker. Then at last, Grimwing and the others beheld the small kingdom for themselves. But their approaching forms were spotted by the wallguards, who grew afraid and targeted them with the wall weaponry while sounding an alarm.

Stardust the Gold believed that Azure was a dominant Predacon that could scare off any approaching members of her kind. Buckled to her back, the queen rode upon Azure as she flapped up to the ramparts to have a better look. Crouching at the top, Azure watched the Predaking and his attack group incoming.

Skystalker landed beside her.

"What fools," he hissed. "They will get shot before they get here."

Stardust glanced at the silver Predacon and those heading straight for them. She wondered if there was a reason this Predacon was despised by others, for now it seemed as though Predacons were smart enough to hold grudges.

"Fire!" she called.

Grimwing swerved as the blasts zipped through their group. The Predacon beside him shrieked when a hole burned through his wing, letting Grimwing know just how serious these blasts could be. He tensed up, growing more afraid as they came closer. Spark thudding, he watched the Predaking pumping steadily onward, wondering just what they were supposed to do.

Everyone could see that the Predaking was falling into one of his rages. The memories of the short war pounded in his mind, blinding him with hatred so that all he could think of was slaughtering these two Predacons, even if it meant crashing into the kingdom and terrifying everyone inside. At his speed, they knew they were all going in, and to turn back would turn his wrath onto them later.

A few of the kingdom's steel arrows were shot at the Predacons, the most deadly of their weaponry that every kingdom had a supply of for warding off Predacons. One ripped through the Predaking's wing and embedded itself into a follower's face. That Predacon dropped from the sky, but there was no time to stop. Grimwing powered on, his spark thumping louder until it was all he could hear.

When Lazerback swerved, an arrow sliced across Grimwing's face. He nearly froze and plunged from the sky in horror. If his head had just been a bit more to the right, he would have been killed right then and there. This was far too dangerous. His frightened mind remembered Storm and Blackbeak waiting for him back home, and he despaired at the idea that he would die here for a cause he did not believe in.

He slowed, but Fangblade slammed into his back and nipped his tail nub in irritation. Another Predacon was fatally hit, and then one arrow caught Backlash straight through the leg. His shriek shook Grimwing's spark, but that was the last of the arrows. With so many Predacons incoming, the wallguards scattered.

Stardust unbuckled herself and slid away before the monstrous Predacon struck. As large as Azure, but with enormous wings and an unmatched rage, it was truly a beast to not get in the way of. Its long, yellow claws slashed into the silver encasing Azure, getting caught but not drawing energon. Azure's eyes grinned at him through the visor. The Predaking was savage in his confusion, not understanding the armour that covered her. Skystalker dove into the Predaking's side, biting and blasting him with his icy breath. At the same time, Azure reared back and shot her smelting fire at his face.

His back feet slipped and he toppled backwards over the wall, and Azure clung to his falling body. The Predaking swiped for eyes, joints, and for the underbelly, but blows that should have incapacitated Azure did not. The armour took the hits as she dug her fangs into his neck. When they crashed into the ground, she bounced off him, but both were soon on their feet. They tensed up and snarled at each other as their allies collected by their sides.

"Stop!" Grimwing shrieked, the words escaping his filter. "We do not have to fight!"

The Predaking whipped back his head as Grimwing galloped forward. "_What_?" he roared.

Skystalker cocked his head.

"These Predacons are living among the bipeds," he gasped out. "Perhaps there is hope; they might learn to see them as equals-"

"Who _cares_ about that?" The Predaking slashed Grimwing across the face. "These Predacons are our enemies! They _must_ die!"

Grimwing stumbled, blood dripping off his cheek. But he peeked up as bipeds lined their stations again, reloading their weapons. With everyone on the ground and so close, the bipeds would kill them all to protect their Predacons.

"Their reasons coming here were selfish," he rumbled. "And yet, living here and seeing them, maybe they can change…"

The rest of the Predaking's followers gawked at him, bewildered as to why he was speaking at all. The Predaking stalked closer to him, long neck curved and tight as he stood on the verge of killing him.

"What would change, if you killed them?" Grimwing panted. "Why can they not just live here in peace? They cannot threaten you here!"

The Predaking slammed his forefeet against his shoulders; Grimwing toppled onto his back, and the Predaking dove for his underbelly. Skystalker launched into the Predaking's side with enough force to knock him off Grimwing, then after a brief scuffle, the Predacons broke apart with Grimwing standing in the middle.

"The bipeds are going to fire at us," Grimwing breathed. "We have to stop fighting now!"

The Predaking glanced up at the wall to see the bipeds ready to defend their own. Azure did not check, but trusted what had been said. She shrieked and plowed into the Grimwing, attacking the closest Predacon to set off the fray. Skystalker leapt onto the Predaking's back, tearing quickly then scooting off him. The wallguards fired at the back row of Predacons, killing a third and impaling Fangblade through a horn. The others realized the danger and fled, but Lazerback zigzagged and launched himself into the fight.

He did not come to Grimwing's aid, but to the Predaking's. The two tore Skystalker's sides, until the blue Predacon hobbled back and glanced hopefully at the top walls. Azure bit and scored Grimwing, who fought madly but could barely damage his foe through her armour. Moreover, this was one of the largest Predacons among their race. Her weight crushed him, and her arms were steady with strength and pinned him. He pecked at her face to no avail and felt the heat of terror.

Then, miraculously, he heard Skystalker shout, "Fly! To the walls!"

Grimwing had thought he was safe when the invincible Predacon jumped off him. Skystalker and Azure flew off, but just as the Predaking and Lazerback started to pursue them, the last volley of arrows came down. They skittered, but all three were struck in different places. Grimwing felt two arrows stab deep into him, through the back and shoulder, but from the looks of it, the Predaking and Lazerback had been more fortunate.

As Grimwing collapsed, he saw the Predaking and Lazerback take off without glancing back. With that, Grimwing realized that they were completely willing to leave him behind. If he was going to survive, then he had to move and save himself. To summon strength, he allowed the images of his friends to shimmer in his mind, but Grimwing wobbled, tried to stand, and dropped.

_I have to get back. I have to get back._

He crawled forward and unfurled his wings, flapping them despite the arrow lodged far into his back. For some moments, his legs dragged across the ground, but then he started to gain altitude. Energon poured down his sides like a blanket of blue, and he knew that if he stopped now, he would not get back up.

_I need to return to them!_

His body shook and shocked him with agony, but all he could do was keep moving. Grimwing's green wings found a rhythm, upholding it so that he would get away. All the other Predacons were far ahead and gaining distance, but Grimwing was not going to stop. Slowly, one way or another, he would return to the Predaking's territory.

He shot out of range of the kingdom's weaponry, but the blood kept escaping him. Grimwing groaned and wavered in flight, but thought, _Keep going. The faster I get back, the sooner I can have energon._

The thoughts and the wing strokes drove Grimwing on beyond exhaustion. His energon turned cold over his body, but the flow had slowed as the energon crusted at his wounds. The pain of the jostled arrows lessened as he grew numb to them, but the one in his back had numbed first although he was certain it was the worst. While the other Predacons rested and plotted, Grimwing soared on for home. He missed the attack group, but he knew the approximate way, and he carried on until he recognized familiar land.

_I can do it. Almost there._

Predacons shrieked in surprise when Grimwing returned, crashing into the territory. He hopped and growled, and Twinstrike rushed up to him.

"Grimwing? What happened?"

Hurrying away, he bounded and soared for his cave home. He slid inside and fell over useless limbs, waking Blackbeak and Storm, who had been sleeping apart from each other.

"Grimwing!" Storm wailed.

He hurried and grabbed some of the processed energon, pouring it into his mouth. Blackback squawked and tugged the arrows, sliding them out then breathing fire over the wounds to close them. But Storm watched him with widened eyes, knowing that this hardly healed Grimwing.

"You need a doctor, a healer," Storm told Grimwing. "You might have been pierced in an organ."

"I… I am fine," he breathed. "I made it."

"But _we_ can't properly help you!" Storm yelped. "Think, if you have internal bleeding, or if-"

Twinstrike crawled into the cave. "Grimwing?"

"Twinstrike?" Storm asked.

The Predacon glanced to him and tried his best to understand.

"He needs more help. Bipedal help."

"Yes?" Twinstrike had understood.

"Please, take me to a kingdom," he begged. "I can get a doctor from there. I will tell them everything, so that they will agree to help."

"You need to fly?" Twinstrike spoke back with simple words.

"Yes, yes! Can you take me?"

Grimwing murmured, "Storm, it is okay."

"N-no, it is not!" Storm threw back. "That one in your back was too deep!"

"I know," he rumbled.

His tone finally pierced through Storm's panic. Blackbeak dropped his jaw and shuffled closer to Storm, to stand in front of Grimwing's lowered head. The biped's red eyes expanded, as he whispered, "What?"

Grimwing's head was settled over his forelegs, as though he would soon go to sleep.

"Of course, I wish this never happened," he breathed, body slumping with the fatigue of his tone. "But in this bloody, confused world… no one is safe."

"Gr-Griming?" Blackbeak mewled.

"I cannot even blame those bipeds," Grimwing murmured. "My spark still loves them… After all, there was no way for them to know… If only I could have called out and spoken, if I could have written a message of peace over my body…"

As his yellow eyes dimmed, Storm slapped his hands over his beak. He was so utterly stressed, for as Grimwing spoke on, Storm had not been fully able to understand his words clearly wrapped in melancholy.

"No, Grimwing," he pleaded. "Stay strong, please… Hold on a little longer…"

"I will be alright," Grimwing repeated in a sigh. "Perhaps, I will see Onyx Prime… I hope he is happy with all I tried to do…"

After his words, Grimwing stayed silent and watched his small friends crowd around him. They stroked his head, with eyes leaking golden lubricant as they looked into his dimming gaze. Never had Grimwing seen a Predacon cry in all of his life, and to see Blackbeak cry for him saddened him and simultaneously gave him hope. There was more to Blackbeak then his attitude and show of strength, something inside him that he had not had time to reveal to Grimwing.

Now, two races stood before him, different yet united by one emotion. Grimwing could not have imagined a more beautiful sight to be his last. Gently, his eyes slid shut, and the light in his chest slipped away without a sound. Though bloodstained, Grimwing lay at peace in his home as though he was simply taking a rest.

His friends still cried, but took their usual spots and cuddled into him as though they too would go to sleep. Twinstrike dipped his heads and backed out of the hole to leave them, feeling his own spark clutch with emotion. Grimwing's most dedicated student now realized just how attached he had become to both Grimwing and the distraught, little biped. The two-headed Predacon crawled away, thoughts swirling as he remembered the times he had not been kind to Grimwing.

It was truly as Grimwing had said, a bloody and confused world. Twinstrike realized that day that he had lived as an actor who had encouraged such a world since his creation. He should have accepted Grimwing since his beginning and given him more love in his short life. There was so little kindness in the world as it was. In understanding of that, Twinstrike vowed to himself that he would hold Grimwing in his spark and carry on his legacy.

* * *

Skystalker asked Azure, "Why did you attack the one who spoke up for us?"

"It is obvious," she muttered. "To set off the fight, so that the bipeds would shoot them."

"You should have gone for the Predaking."

"What, did you want to take that Predacon with us?" Azure chuckled.

"I do not know why you laugh, for it has been a while since we have had allies."

* * *

The Predaking forgot about Grimwing and wondered how they would kill Skystalker and Azure. He did not know how he would get through Azure's armour or past the wallguards, but his spark of hatred commanded him to do everything possible to destroy them once and for all.

The cluster of Predacons lay and mended their wounds. After, they split off for a quick hunt. When the Predaking returned first, Lazerback beckoned him with worry in his voice.

"Look."

He pointed at the ground where there was writing scratched into the metal, the lines and pricks of the language of Primus. The Predaking snarled, "Was Grimwing here? What is the meaning of this?"

"No," Lazerback gulped. "Backlash says… He was the first back, and he swears that he saw…"

"Prima," Backlash whispered. "He was crouched over the ground, then he just… disappeared…"

At last, the Predaking scrutinized the writing. It had been kept simple so that he would understand.

_Leave this place and do not return._

"Leave?" the Predaking roared. "How dare he command me!"

Prima had not stayed for his argument or for a fight. The Predaking slashed the writing and paced, hissing, "Leave my enemies in peace? How could he expect such a thing from me! And then, how foolish! Does he not realize how dangerous these Predacons are? They will slaughter those bipeds!"

Lazerback answered nervously, "I-I do not understand either. But, if Prima commands us…"

"You think we should just leave?" He spun onto the smaller Predacon.

"Yes," he admitted. "I think he knows what is ultimately best for his people. Prima even helped us one time."

The Predaking growled, "Those two Predacons wanted to create a world where anyone could prey on the bipeds. Prima is _wrong_."

And yet, even the Predaking did not want to enrage Prima. After a long argument, they decided to leave.

* * *

"_Perhaps there is hope; they might learn to see them as equals…"_

Skystalker was still considering the words of that Predacon he had never met before. The one with the green wings was unlike any other Predacon, who seemed to advocate for peace between the races. What had made him so passionate? His words resonated with Skystalker's new feelings, making it seem as though that Predacon too had seen that other side of the bipeds.

"_Their reasons coming here were selfish. And yet, living here and seeing them, maybe they can change…"_

He had come here so that they would be protected and taste the taboo metal of dead bipeds. But he lay down, closing his eyes as the bipeds mended his scratched body and stroked his face. His spark felt warm and welcomed, for this was home and the Plains of Iacon had not been.

Azure was having her armour removed so that its parts could be repaired or replaced. Her feral, green eyes glared at Skystalker in disgust as he relaxed at the touch of the bipeds.

_What can change?_ Skystalker thought. _He must mean what I have done, to abandon savagery and appreciate intellect. To scorn meaningless fighting and find a purpose in life… Ah, but to see them as equals? He must think that we are, but do _I_ believe that now?_

Skystalker rolled onto his stomach. A burly hand patted his head then offered him a small energon cube. He nibbled it and thought, _I never questioned myself until now, as smart as I was. I never thought that I could be wrong, but perhaps, that was stupid of me. I prevented myself from learning by being so vain. I know now that these bipeds are so intelligent, and despite how weak they are, they deserve their lives. They even treat me with such respect, as a being who came from the same place as them… _

Slowly, the chime-like gibberish of the biped became clear as if he were speaking the Predacon language. Skystalker widened his eyes, shocked as he heard the biped petting him sigh.

"Poor ol' Blue. Maybe we'll get you some armour too, eh?"

* * *

The moment the Predaking had returned to his land, he heard from Twinstrike that Grimwing had returned, only to pass away soon after. He made his way over to the cave, but then a missile of wrath shot out. Blackbeak attacked his face with all of his might, slashing and pecking as he screeched.

"This is your fault!" he roared in his throaty dialect. "You forced him into war! He died because of you!"

The Predaking shrieked and jumped onto his hind legs. His claws swung and hooked into the Predacon's small body, but Blackbeak fought free. The enraged bot flew over his head and assaulted his neck, ripping at plating and screaming, "I will kill you! You monster, you selfish, horrible beast! You left him! You killed him!"

Twinstrike grabbed Blackbeak and gently trapped him under his claws.

The Predaking growled, "Kill that creature."

"One death was too many today," Twinstrike replied. "Blackbeak is crazed, but he does not need to perish. He will calm."

"He attacked me."

"But he did not challenge you for your position. Forgive him, my Predaking. The weak Predacon hardly could harm you regardless."

Storm jogged over to stay near Blackbeak. His presence deterred the Predaking from wanting to charge in and rip Blackbeak from Twinstrike's claws. Furthermore, Twinstrike's praise had eased him. He liked to think that Blackbeak was too pathetic to be worth his effort, although the Predaking currently bled from the face.

He spat and turned his back.

"Today you are forgiven, but learn your place, or I shall devour you."

Then, the Predaking flew off, screeching for an assembly to report all that had happened that day. Twinstrike released Blackbeak and scampered off to follow his leader, but the small Predacon growled and stomped back to the cave.

"I would leave, if it weren't for Grimwing," he muttered. "Thick-headed brute. I hope he pays one day for his pride..."

Blackbeak glanced at Storm, and realized with horror that he was crying once again. He had believed in those seconds that Blackbeak was going to get killed for his actions, and Storm stared at him now and shook. Guilt drowned the grey Predacon.

"I am sorry," he tried, and voiced the nickname Grimwing had given him, "little Storm."

He wrapped his wings around the biped and sighed.

"I will take care of you. Do you understand?"

Storm nodded.

"And we'll drink energon together, yes?" Blackbeak rubbed his beak into Storm's wings. "And I will let you teach me, so that I can make Grimwing proud."

* * *

"Azure!" he yelped. "I-I can understand the language of the bipeds!"

"What?"

"I do not know, but... I swear to you- I understand them!"

* * *

Beyond Blackbeak's or any Predacon's understanding, there had been a grave price to pay that day. When a saddened and hopeful spark returned to the Allspark, it was the beginning of the end for their kind. It took a while before it was noticed, and no one connected the dots as to why it happened.

One morning, Divebomb flew in to confirm to the Predaking, "The Allspark has not produced Predacons in a while."

And then, years passed, and it became perfectly clear that the Well of Allsparks had stopped producing Predacons altogether. For unless Grimwing's dream could be fulfilled, in which Predacons and bipeds lived in harmony, then no new Predacon life would be created. For a brief time, there had been a chance with the few Predacons who had changed because of Grimwing. However, their valiant lives had been cut short by death from above, when the sky turned red and the planet burned.

And so, the world kept waiting, but after the Great Cataclysm, no one would remain to fulfill the dream.


	17. Chapter 16: Twilight

**This chapter will have lines from the_ Covenant of Primus _woven into the text.**

* * *

_The end came unforeseen, as most do, when the rotation of the neighbouring star systems temporarily brought the gravitational pull of a second star into conflict with our own… _

_Many Cybertronian forms could not survive the shocks to which they were exposed. These died on the spot. The larger and more robust individuals were able to restart after short intervals of rest, but for many of them a worse fate awaited…_

_This [era] had come to its tragic conclusion and bore its own dark, awful secrets of which the greatest to be instantly forgotten- because it went unwitnessed- was the fate of the Predacons._

* * *

There was calm before the reign of the storm. The sky was clear and the weather as fair as it always had been in the heart of the Predaking's domain. Skystalker's old Insecticons farms were bountiful, so Predaking was never short on food even in lean times. Although now, times were not lean and he was strong, having no issue defeating the small bands of Predacons that occasionally challenged his rule.

Now, that one biped still hung around on his territory, but the Predaking ignored it with the excuse that it hardly showed its face anyway. However, the truth of the matter was that after Grimwing's death, the Predaking had come back to pluck the biped from the cave and carry it back to a kingdom. He had been stopped by an outraged Twinstrike, who plowed into him and initiated a fight.

It was not the first time they had fought; the Predaking had gotten into scuffles with Twinstrike and Lazerback over little things before, but the fights were not deadly because no one wanted to kill each other. They had known each other for so long that the Predaking could not imagine life without the two around. Still, this aggression surprised the Predaking, since he had not realized how much Twinstrike liked having the biped around. In the end, the Predaking broke it off and decided a puny biped was not worth harming his relationship with Twinstrike.

So in the cave Storm stayed, or otherwise went out on short trips with Blackbeak. It was a unique situation: the Predaking's followers allowed the biped to stay but they completely ignored him to the point that they almost forgot about his existence. It was not intentional, since common Predacons were self-absorbed. After the years, the Predacons had even forgotten about Ripclaw and Grimwing.

Of course, Blackbeak had not. It was difficult to, for Predacons did not destroy bodies of their kind. It was taboo to melt the bodies of even one's enemies, for that was what Predacons did to the parts of the prey they regurgitated. Somehow, their culture felt that to melt any Predacon disgraced the race. Cannibalism was hardly tolerated because of this, and only the Predaking got away with it, as a Predacon above Predacons. Bodies from their battle had been left at the edge of the territtory, both as a warning and as commemoration.

So Grimwing's body remained in the cave, although it had been cleaned and painted with writings of peace by Storm. It was hard for Storm to get used to the body, for he kept hoping that Grimwing would awaken and stand. Conversely, Blackbeak felt that it was an honour to keep him in his home and study before him, and Storm came to accept it. With years of hard work, the two could now understand each other, Blackbeak could write to him, and Storm could speak in heavily accented Predacon if necessary.

Gradually, Twinstrike too learned the language of Primus, then more of science and even math. The cave became full of tools and machinery that Storm brought out to Twinstrike to look through, but no Prime stood to watch in amazement. The biped in the Predacon territory was forgotten in the great concern after what had been foreseen in the _Covenant of Primus_.

* * *

Slowly, the days grew warmer and at first, Predacons praised the heat. Flight was easy and the colder lands felt normal for once. Even Storm and all the bipeds did not know what was coming, thinking that the seasons in their regions were kinder this year. Energon flowed plentiful, and many animals emerged to fill the skies and ground with life. However, concern came to the bipeds when the sky adopted a reddish tinge.

It was faint at first, but then, the red became more vibrant over time. Storm narrowed his eyes, then asked Blackbeak to fly him to a kingdom so that he could inquire about it.

It was a good time to show off Blackbeak, now that he could write and understand him flawlessly. They left without the Predaking's permission, and their absence was not noticed. For a week, Storm stayed although the kingdom admitted that they did not know what was causing the sky to redden. To make their time worthwhile, Storm proved to them that the small Predacon was intelligent and could understand them.

It was a jolly time in which Blackbeak followed their commands and wrote to them, awing them and receiving praise. When they left, both felt elated. Since more bipeds now knew of Predacon intelligence, Storm felt that he had done a great service to Grimwing. Those bipeds had opened up to working with Predacons, so he rushed to find the Predaking to tell him of the good news.

However, once the Predaking _was_ found, he did not care to hear more than the answer to his question.

He asked Blackbeak, "Does the creature know why the sky is red?"

"Er, no," Blackbeak answered. "No one knows."

"Useless!" the Predaking snarled. "I do not know why Twinstrike praises it!"

Blackbeak poured out the news of what they had done, but the Predaking screeched and turned on them.

"You dared?" he shrieked. "I commanded that Predacons and bipeds would live apart! For the safety of the inferior kind, we cannot be allowed to mingle!"

Storm and Blackbeak flinched, regretting instantly their decision to tell him. The Predaking roared and lunged at Blackbeak, but Storm threw himself over his chest, forcing the Predaking to halt. Claws clenched inches away from the biped's wings. Grinding his fangs, the Predaking made up his mind.

"You are hereby forbidden from leaving this territory," he growled. "I will inform everyone to prevent you from passing the border. Never again will you disobey my order."

The way his body shook frightened them into silence. If it were not for Twinstrike's attachment, Blackbeak would be killed and Storm thrown into a random kingdom.

Twinstrike apologized profusely when he found them and heard of the order. Even he however, could not change the Predaking's mind about uniting the races. It had been a push just to keep Storm nearby in this cave. To compromise, he promised to bring any materials to them that they asked for.

Weeks went by and the red seemed to be a permanent change. Predacons were mostly annoyed by the change they did not understand, but Storm itched to get out, desperate to know if the other bipeds had found out what was happening yet. Once, he tried to escape, but they had been caught and Blackbeak badly injured by one of the followers. Since then, Storm had been more afraid of the Predaking's rule than of the reddening sky.

* * *

The Predaking surveyed his world with the confidence of one who has plenty and who knows everything he needs to know in order to get what he wants. As he did each morning, he rose and acknowledged the strength in his limbs and wings. He was the largest and most powerful of the Predacons, and so it had been for hundreds of years. Reviewing this deeply gratifying information, he headed north-west to the Plains of Iacon to disembowel an Insecticon and find Lazerback and Twinstrike.

The two often came to Skystalker's farms, to manage it and grab an individual from the horde of black, shining bodies to appease their appetites. That day, the Predaking found them in the usual position of satisfied predators. Like lions, they stretched out and basked in the sun, with their wings and vanes also exposed to catch the rays. Below them, the fodder toiled peaceably, pawing and munching into rock to find energon, caring not for the Predacons or realizing what fate could come to them.

The Predaking lay with them and enjoyed the warmth, but he cast a glare at the red sky. He hated the change and that here was something that he could not control. No amount of willpower could command the sky to obey him and return to its normal state. When the trio decided to fly around on a patrol, the Predaking soared and watched bright, tailed shapes streaking across the sky. That had been happening more frequently, these brilliant, inexplicable flashes, and the Predaking hated that they had frightened him at first. A Predacon as powerful as him should be ashamed to fear harmless light even if he did not understand it.

By this day, the Predaking had already accepted the lightd as some insignificant weather feature. Perhaps a phenomenon that happened every thousand years, so it was his first time encountering it. Lately, the winds had been stronger and making flying difficult, but he marked that down too as insignificant.

Feeling the tingle of rage for the red sky, the Predaking took it out on an Insecticon at the edge of the farms. Its head popped off with a clean slice, then the Predaking bit down over the neck and tilted the body so that energon squirted into his throat. Lazerback and Twinstrike went on while he had his meal. When the energon trickled thin, he crunched into the guts, then left the body behind. Such was his habit; he liked to think that other Insecticons would see it and know that there were greater masters about.

The Predaking flew in the direction Lazerback and Twinstrike had gone. Despite the sky, life had been routine and the Predaking had not expected that everything would change forever this day. A few minutes later, the first meteor blazed down, faster than he had ever seen anything move before, and buried itself into the lowlands just ahead of him. It had been quick and silent, startling the Predaking into a flapping, awkward hover. Then, a wall of air smacked him down out of the sky and flung him tumbling to the ground. At the same time, a deafening crack shot his audio receptors as sound fled from the explosion.

With wings snapped back, the Predaking struck rock and metal with such force that the mighty Predacon was stunned. For long moments, his body refused to obey the instructions of his dazed brain. He lay prone and disorientated, until the shock wore off and he shuffled onto his claws. As his eyes expanded with consciousness, animals crashed into him in terror. A carpet of panicking, small bots raced from the impact site in blind terror, not even noticing the carnivore in their way. Flying creatures shrieked and whizzed by as the acrid stench of burning metal wafted toward him.

Pride drew him to his full height and turned him to face the danger. He was no puny animal, and certainly they could not be fleeing some creature more powerful than him. The Predaking would know what his enemy was soon enough. As he waited for more movement, the animals cleared out. He stared, waiting, plates bristling that this threat had come to his land and presumably killed his creatures.

He waited for an hour, legs stiff for some reason. The Predaking lifted off and flew to the disaster site cautiously, glad that the others were not here to witness his expression as he saw the unnatural ripples fused into the glassy rocks that now glowed and cooled in the aftermath. With too many steps closer, the Predaking hissed and scampered back as heat melted the undersides of his claws. He blinked furiously as ash and micrometal caught the wind and blew into his face. As his hide began to burn from the heat, pebbles and shards rained down upon him in a steady patter.

After bounding and gliding a distance away, the Predaking turned around to regard the mushrooming cloud of grey. He stretched out his neck and shrieked to call for Lazerback and Twinstrike, but they had seen him fly into the impact site. They too had seen the strike of the meteorite, and were now making their way over to him.

The Predaking turned his back to them and stalked off, trying to seem unbothered in denial of his pounding spark. Then, a second, third, and fourth meteorite dropped from the sky in quick succession. The Predaking shrieked and flattened, limbs spreadeagled and claws outstretched. Bearing his teeth, his body steeled itself to fight, but all he could do was witness the same awful results and feel lucky that he had not been hit.

The booms shook him. In fear and rage, the Predaking screeched and blasted fire into the sky. Following his bellow, he heard the shrieking jabber and screams of mass terror but knew it was not for him. More animals rushed around him, and Twinstrike arrived, pouncing on an exhausted petrorabbit that had knocked itself out running into the Predaking. He swallowed its flowing energon, then shuddered, coughing out a cloud of filth from his vents.

The Predaking saw that the two were charged with the fight instinct because of their fear. Twinstrike swiped at another animal despite his lack of hunger. Lazerback snarled and nipped Twinstrike when he came too close, then for a few seconds, they challenged each other, snarling and snapping until their senses cleared.

Lazerback snorted steam and growled, "Enough fooling. What's all this?"

"No idea." Twinstrike shook a head, then felt guilt about how he had turned on Lazerback. He lowered that head in a cowering display to calm Lazerback's aggression, but the other head tilted up to scan the sky.

They flew swiftly back to the heart of the Predaking's domain. Apparently, there had been strikes nearby, which had shaken the Predacons to the core. They had clustered and waited for his return, and several Shrikebots had rushed back.

"Damage report," he growled at the wyvern-like Predacons.

They squawked over each other until the Predaking jabbed a claw at one's chest.

"The Cold Lands have been struck hard," he gasped. "I was patrolling the area and saw the Insecticon farms get annihilated. They're dead, all dead!"

The assembled Predacon cried and hooted while the Predaking felt his blood run cold. He had just been there. He could have been hit and turned into another one of the squashed, charred corpses he had seen in the wreckage.

"What of the other Predacons in those lands?" the Predaking asked.

"I swooped in to check," the messenger answered. "There are deaths. Darksteel and Vertebreak, my king, as far as I know."

"Two Predacons have perished?" the Predaking's hackles raised.

"That is not the worst of it," gasped another Shrikebot. "The bipedal kingdom closest to us got hit directly. I flew in after, but could not see much through the smoke… I believe hundreds have been killed."

"What?" the Predaking hollered.

"Yes." His feathers rattled. "I have never seen such a destructive force… The buildings, the bipeds, all destroyed at once… I heard the screams and the heat was too unbearable even for me to handle. I had no choice but to leave."

The Predacons screeched again, wailing words weaved into their cries.

"What will we do?"

"Will there be more?"

"Where did they come from?"

"Why is this happening?"

"Enough!" the Predaking roared. He turned his head and glanced at the currently quiet, red sky. "Perhaps only this area has been damaged. There might be safe places elsewhere."

Turning to the Shrikebots, he commanded, "Fly across the northern territories and seek safe places."

* * *

Skystalker and Azure had observed firsthand the worry among the bipeds as the sky reddened. They could understand their words, for Skystalker had spent these years painstakingly translating and teaching Azure their language. However, these bipeds did not have the astronomical knowledge to understand what was happening, so they offered no explanation.

One of those days, a streak had flashed by the kingdom before a sonic boom startled everyone into screaming. The ponies buckled and rusthounds howled, and even the Predacons growled and acted up as a cloud of grey spread over the sky. The kingdom's ruler rushed to the Predacons and climbed into Azure's saddle. Stardust patted her into moving, then the bold, silver Predacon flew off to see what had happened.

The news the queen shared injected panic into the masses. Frightened, the bots leaned back and stared at the sky with shining eyes, terrified that at any second, they would be struck. Bots ran into their houses and cowered in basements, but then no further strikes came. For hours, the Predacons outside sniffed the stinging air and quivered.

"What is happening to this world?" Azure rumbled.

"I wish I knew," Skystalker replied.

There was nowhere for them to hide, and they did not think flying out into the open was any better.

An assembly was called after several hours of calm. The Predacons crouched at the edge of the crowd, listening to the cried questions and feeling the same worry in their sparks.

"We do not know what is happening," said their queen. "But it is clear that things are only getting worse. We must leave at once before it is too late, and go underground."

No one wanted to leave their homes, but no one protested. At once, the construction of wagons and containers skyrocketed. They worked through the night, then at noon the next day, a wondrous visitor was guided inside.

It was not Prima, but the unusually large biped struck the Predacons as a clear Prime. There was an aura of wisdom and fearlessness about him that demanded respect despite his quirky smile and glasses. Apart from that, his grey body was always changing, melting, freezing, flashing into different colours. Hypnotized, the Predacons trailed him as he sought their ruler.

Skystalker murmured, "Prima once said that there were others like him. He must be another."

Alchemist Prime glanced at the Predacons. They froze, intimidated by his smile and because Skystalker had been understood. Then, Alchemist ignored the battle-Predacons and regarded the citizens tenderly. Everywhere, they gasped at his appearance, for most of them had never seen a Prime before. Primes had mostly vanished, said to appear in the most dire times. The legend had come now, like an angel among a people, so they followed and waited for his words.

He met Stardust the Gold in the centre, then addressed the packed audience.

"I see that you are already aware of the peril befalling our world." Alchemist projected his voice. "It is worse than you can imagine, but you will overcome it. The rotation of neighbouring star systems has temporarily brought the gravitational pull of a second star into conflict with our own. A large number of rocks and asteroids have been pulled from our system's Debris Cloud and are now colliding with us. We remaining Primes have been attempting to blast them into smaller shards, but we cannot protect you as there are far too many. Soon, the planet will be ravaged by radiation, covered by dark skies, and breaking apart in the flashes of extreme heat and cold. To survive, we must evacuate the surface and hibernate underground through the cataclysm."

"Hibernate?" Stardust gasped. "How?"

"Through stasis lock. Although not necessary for survival, the time will pass instantly and you will not run out of resources. You will awaken when it is safe."

"Statis lock? But, is that not only an ability of small animals, a method of avoiding capture?"

"No, all Cybertronian life can do it. I have come to show you a way to unlock this ancient ability."

The Predacons and bipeds leaned forward in nervous interest as Alchemist told them how simple it could be. Deeper than recharging, convincing the body that it would not have to move for a long while. Based on that knowledge, a timer could be set. The body would understand when it should move again, and shut down organ functions almost entirely.

_This sounds like death_, everyone thought.

Their brave ruler decided to attempt it. No one but Azure doubted the Prime, so it was easy for Stardust to dig into her spark to find the survival knowledge. One day in the future, bots would dig in the same way and learn to transform. The flier stretched out, then fell limp. Her open eyes went black as though in death, worrying the citizens watching. Then, her eyes flickered after a few minutes, and she looked around at everyone.

"It will work," she stated.

Alchemist needed not stay any longer. He departed, for there was little time and more kingdoms to visit. Everyone here got right on with packing everything into the wagons, at least to protect their belongings by bringing them with them.

"We travel northwards," Stardust commanded. "I fear the heat more than the cold."

"That is Predacon territory," someone whimpered.

"Predacon attacks are uncommon. They say that Prima protects our kind, and on top of that, we have these two to protect us," she answered. "I say we go there for the cold and shorter days, and also to distance ourselves from others. So that we are not attacked or robbed in our slumber."

All animals were gathered, the small ones in carriers and the larger ones on leads. Once everything important was loaded, the wagons and lines of bots exited the gates of the kingdom. Azure and Skystalker marched among them, tails drooped and swinging as they stared at the sky. Then, Skystalker murmured, "We are fortunate to be allied with them. If we were not here, we would not have known about this danger."

Azure rumbled, "Do you think it is as bad as that Prime said? That the other Predacons will perish?"

"Yes."

"Ah, how fortunate indeed! The Well has stopped producing Predacons, so if they all die- imagine! We will be the only Predacons left when we return to the surface! There will be no Predaking or anyone to hunt us ever again. We will be free!"

While the idea widened his eyes, Skystalker was not so excited. This place had felt like a prison to Azure, but he had grown content to stay here and learn. His old dreams of ruling Predacons had faded when he realized how meaningless such a life would have been. While he did not care if other Predacons died, he was not enthusiastic either.

* * *

The head messenger of the Shrikebots, Divebomb, reported to the Predaking that the bipeds were reacting. There were mass migrations, populations leaving their homes and descending into tunnels in the ground. Scrunching up his face, the Predaking tried to hide his fear and deny that the bipeds had any greater understanding. They were smaller, weaker bots. They could not face the threat with the bravery of a Predacon.

Blackbeak sat with his wings around Storm as the biped hugged his chest. Both had been shaking in the cave until Twinstrike's arrival.

"Storm!" he gasped. "What is happening? Why do you not know?"

"We need to get out," Storm mewled. "The others must know what is happening. I need to ask them…"

"Yes," Twinstrike breathed. "Yes. Everyone else has bigger things on their minds. Go! Your kind must know how to save us!"

Blackbeak hopped to the back and grabbed one of the energon processors in his claws. Storm skittered onto his back and wrapped his arms around his neck, then the small Predacon opened his wings. Despite the fact that he was only as tall as Storm, he had an impressive wingspan for his size. He carried them out of the cave, and Twinstrike escorted them to the border in case anyone would challenge them. No one did. No one even saw them for all the patrollers had left the borders unguarded.

Twinstrike watched the smaller bots sail away into the red sky. He prayed that they would return swiftly, but he knew that the closest kingdom had been destroyed, so now they would have to fly out further to find help.

After a day, all the Shrikebots returned from their flight. The news they brought had little hope. Regions that seemed safe were soon hit, so there was no guarantee that an unmarked spot in the North would be safe. Many Predacon corpses had been found at impact sites, and the local Predacons were becoming crazed and aggressive from terror. Steadily, ash was gathering in other regions and blocking light from the sky.

"We will be engulfed soon," Divebomb gasped.

"What of the South?" the Predaking growled. "Or the lands near the Winds?"

The Predacons lifted their heads in hope, but their wings sagged in the heat. Though no meteorites crashed around them now, the red orb of the sun in the sky seemed like a watching, amused eye.

"We are not sure…"

"Send them out!" the Predaking roared. "By my fangs and claws, we will not flee underground like rat-bots!"

But flee they would have to regardless, whether it be above the ground or below it.

The Shrikebots zipped off at once. Twinstrike tapped the ground anxiously, all his hope for Storm and Blackbeak's return.

* * *

The two had passed over the kingdom they had visited before and choked. A wall had crumpled into sludge, buildings melted into a pool and the bodies- Storm snapped his head away and squeezed his eyes shut. They pressed on, but neither knew where the next kingdom would be since neither had flown past the Predaking's territory since Grimwing had brought them there. Blackbeak wanted to fly high for better visibility, but smoke made all hazy and filled their vents. They coughed and their eyes dripped lubricant, but flying lower to the ground hardly helped.

"Sky's getting worse," Blackbeak said.

"There must be more explosions elsewhere," Storm murmured. "It's clouding up our atmosphere."

Blackbeak did not get all of that, but he inferred the point.

The heat from the blast sites cracked the ground open with groans. They flinched at the sounds and later saw an open chasm pulsing with glowing sludge.

"This is insane," Blackbeak coughed. "How did this happen so suddenly? Our world, crumbling like this… beyond my imagination…"

"Where are all the animals?" Storm whispered.

Low to the ground, they had seen only bodies, but no living creatures.

"Run underground, I bet. Wise, just like your kind."

"What if we can't find my people?" Storm whined. "Oh, they've probably already left their homes. How will we know which way to go?"

"Relax, we will find them." Blackbeak tightened his talons around the handle of the energon processor. "There's a lot of your kind. We'll see a big group."

The heat buzzed at their metal they longer they flew. There came a point when they realized that they could not tell if it was night or day here, for there had been so many fresh impacts.

"Storm," Blackbreak breathed. "I need a rest."

They glided and searched for any sort of cave or tunnel, but found nothing. Blackbeak plopped onto the flat ground and coughed raggedly. The biped sat and cried the dust from his eyes, then he lifted the lid of the energon processor for Blackbeak. Ash immediately settled into it like snowflakes, but Blackbeak drank it anyway.

"I'm sorry," the Predacon said.

"It's okay," Storm breathed. "You have to rest."

As they waited however, a wind began to pick up. Blackbeak knew he was too exhausted, but he wanted to get moving before it got worse. _Everything_ was getting worse, and there was so little time. He gathered Storm and the processor, but he did not get far before he lost altitude.

"Blackbeak?" Storm cried.

The Predacon stiffened his wings to let them glide safely to the ground. Then, he tipped over and lay on the ground.

"I'm sorry," he groaned. "I was never strong enough. My shoulders are too weak, I'm just too small…"

He stretched out his legs and let his wings fall limp. As Storm snuggled into his chest, he went on.

"I wasn't good enough to be a Shrikebot although we share the same body type. I tried to be one. I studied, I practiced, but in my first flight through the Winds, I was swept away. I was lucky to live and get thrown into the South."

"Really?" Storm looked up at him.

"Aye… I wish I could have told Grimwing before he died. I suppose it's why I was always so stubborn, you know. I was such a failure. I just wanted to be strong, so I acted tough and tried to feel good about my Predaconnness. Because I thought, well, as long as I was a Predacon, I was still better than a lot of other bots… How foolish I was."

Storm did not know how to make him feel better, and his spark screamed for Blackbeak to just get up and keep flying. With nothing else to do, he squeezed him and cried. The more time that passed, the less likely it was that they were going to find help.

* * *

A meteorite struck the Predaking's domain and it was the final straw. Like a bullet, it shot through the territory and left a smoldering scar of death. The wind knocked Predacons heads over tails, and the burning stench and heat washed over them. Predacons wailed to the heavens and fled to the border, clustering around the Predaking and gazing at him beseechingly.

He solidified himself and acted as the brave leader they needed. Lazerback and Twinstrike had not been struck- the Predaking felt relief when they flanked him, then they padded toward the impact site.

Predacons lay dead, crushed with energon sizzling. Their eyes widened as they recognized Backlash among the bodies. Then, there was a pitiful groan and they spotted Fangblade dragging his splintered body over the ground.

"Oh no," Lazerback breathed.

The trio bounded over to him, stepping into the burning ground to bite his wings and pull him forward. He screeched in agony, but they brought him onto cooler ground then examined his injuries.

His back legs and tail were flattened and broken up. Wires peeked out, but at least the tubes had melted shut to keep the energon from pouring out of him. They dragged Fangblade further, taking him back to where the other Predacons were gathered.

"We need to get out of here," Lazerback murmured to the Predaking.

The Predaking gazed to the sky, as though hoping that a Shrikebot would come just because he had looked.

"This is all bad," Lazerback went on.

The Predaking glared at him for speaking such words around the others. He jerked his head, beckoning them to follow him to a private patch of land. All the others kept staring at the dying Fangblade and the rising smoke.

Twinstrike scanned the sky again, then murmured, "More are coming. I see their trails burn fires against the stars."

More meteorites, heading in another direction. Flashes, and then they were gone. There was no telling when one might strike them, for there would never be time to realize it.

"Backlash is dead, lump of iron," Twinstrike uttered. "Fangblade- all broke up, won't last the day out… Everywhere, everything dead."

So it seemed from what the Shrikebots said. The Predaking doubted that the animals could still be alive on the surface. They must have fled by now, and weren't all _dead_.

The burning air stabbed their heads like thousands of tiny needles. It was harder to think or have the energy to grunt out more than a few words at a time. That red orb in the sky. The sun, it had to be the fault of the sun. It had brought red, then doom had come. The Predaking stabbed a claw upward at the star and growled, "Think it is that thing?"

Twinstrike looked with one head and shook his other. "Whatever it is that is causing this, we can't reach it. Too far away."

The Predaking snarled. There was nothing he could charge after and destroy to bring this all to an end.

Lazerback coughed and looked around at the gritty air with hatred. "The sky is falling!"

"Don't you have anything to state but the obvious?" the Predaking spat. His tail lashed and smashed rocks.

"We're lucky to be alive… uhh… no," Lazerback said, thinking it over. "What should we do?"

At this point, the Predaking had no answer. The Shrikebots were still out, and here was hoping that they were skilled enough to find their way back in the thickening air and rising wind. As the king of the Predacons, however, he must take command. The longer the silence dragged on, the more his power eroded, so he stood in the midst of chaos and growled, "We must guard the territories and do what we can to herd the fodder into safer areas."

Even to himself, he sounded doubtful. There might not be any safe territories, but at least gathering all the animals they could seemed like a bright idea. The two looked hopeful at his suggestion.

"We will take over Darksteel's sweep," he continued. "And when Skylynx is dead, his too. That will make up for our losses with the farms."

The areas had been notoriously prey-rich, so the Predaking gathered the surviving followers and flew northward. Fangblade was a lost cause and dying slowly, so the Predaking bit his nape when he was not looking, to finish him. They arrived in the west as Skystalker and Azure arrived in the east. Neither groups saw each other.

The bipeds were working deep underground, a combined effort speedily constructing a safe pod. As they did, the Predaking and his followers flooded into Darksteel's territory. There, they found Skylynx grieving over Darksteel's body. His beak and feet were melted and warped from how he had quickly dragged out Darksteel from the heat. His round, leaking eyes glared at the newcomers and he hissed at them.

"Get out of here."

The Predaking growled, "We are here to gather the prey before times get lean."

"Ha!" Skylynx barked. "There is nothing! There is nothing left, you fools! The Insecticons died or crawled underground. The same with everything else since the first day. Give up the sky. We too must go underground if we are to survive."

With someone to yell at, Skylynx found his strength. He bit into Darksteel and dragged him off toward a tunnel he knew about on the territory. Everyone followed him to the hole and watched him go inside, taking Darksteel with him.

The Predaking whirled around to the others. "No, it cannot be true! There must be a place untouched. The South. That must be our only hope!"

The Predacons did not understand the natural world enough to know that the ash in the air was spreading everywhere and that no magical force protected the South from the same meteorites that blasted them here. They cried out in their desperate hope and flew after the Predaking while energon still flowed in their bodies. But without much left on the surface to eat, their strength was waning.

When they did find animals, Predacons fought amongst themselves for the energon, spilling much of it into the dust. As they hurried on southwards, however, they accumulated more and more flying Predacons. A group heading steadily in one direction seemed to know what it was doing, so stragglers joined and trusted the Predaking when they should not have.

He felt like he had gathered the last of the surviving, flight capable Predacons. Hundreds came, tacking on and flapping with him into the unbearable wind.

_It is up to me to save my race_, he thought. _They follow me_.

He had not known that the sun had gone in the night, but now, it was rising behind the ash and bringing with it mortal danger. It started as a buzz, the prickle of radiation and heat. The Predacons began to pant to cool down, but they only sucked in more of the ash and coughed frantically. They inhaled then spluttered, finding no way to cool themselves. Even if they could take in the air, it was as hot as their bodies and could have done nothing for them.

They pressed into the wind, but the pain and exhaustion was getting to them. Predacons staggered on the wing and began to plummet. Looking back, the Predaking roared and swept down to them.

"Get up!" he cried. "Do not lose to the storm!"

It was only his resolve that kept him flying. Everyone was beginning to succumb to the rising heat, the radiation, and energon deficiency- they dropped like poisoned bugs. Over a plain, the Predacons collapsed and lay with sides heaving between coughs and gulps.

Lazerback and Twinstrike collapsed among them, and then, all that was left was the Predaking gliding over them all with jaw dropped in horror.

"No! Rise, my brethren! We cannot rest here, for the heat only intensifies! We must continue!"

Their rasps and coughs filled the land. The Predaking tottered and fell down among them, eyes pointed toward Lazerback and Twinstrike.

"No," he groaned. He rolled onto his feet. "I will not die here. Not here, like a weakling!"

He crawled to his companions.

"Rise! You are Predacons! Do not give up- do not lose strength!"

They twitched and blinked at him.

"I can't move," Twinstrike rumbled. "Legs won't…"

The Predaking shook and coughed, but reached out his unsteady forelegs. He wrapped his claws around their throats and tried to lift off, carrying them all. His enormous wings lifted them partially off the ground, but they fought hard, struggling with the weight of the three Predacons. He could not manage it- he crashed, then cried, "Help me, you fools! Fly!"

He tried to rise again. Twinstrike begin to flap his wings and the vanes on Lazerback began to whir. Their eyes were filled with exhaustion, but at a painfully slow pace, they began to rise.

"Shelter," Twinstrike croaked.

The Predaking held them as they all flew, looking hard at the ground for a large tunnel opening. From utter luck, one was soon found. They dove inside and the Predaking released them. The three crawled into the darkness and continued deeper, eventually feeling the heat and radiation lessen. The tunnel ended at a dead end, but they had gone deep enough.

Some animals had gotten trapped here, so they eagerly consumed them, then fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

**_...to be continued._**


	18. Chapter 17: Twilight (continued)

Wind howled over the plains, incessant and sounding of screams. Apart from that, there was silence in the world that the three Predacons knew extended beyond where they lay. While the Predaking and Twinstrike slept deeply, Lazerback stirred and cautiously crawled toward the surface. He felt heat worming through his metal and a strange, fuzzy feeling, but Lazerback needed to know what had happened to the others.

When his head peeked out to the surface, his jaw dropped. Smoke clogged distant visibility, but Lazerback assumed the horror spread into the beyond. A carpet of bodies surrounded him, winged Predacons twisted into agonized positions with partially melted metal and dark eyes. Now it did not seem likely that the heat had killed these Predacons, but Lazerback reckoned it had to do with the painful tingling piercing his body once again. The Predacon peered toward the sky, but the smog blocked out the sun that was to blame.

_Some invisible weapon from the sky._

It was exhausting to move on the surface, but not as bad as before. Was it night now? Even if it was, the sky boulders might crash down upon him at any moment. Lazerback tensed up, believing that there was no safe time, but that surely there was some safe _place_ left.

Two black forms soared through the polluted air. With sharp wings and small bodies, Lazerback knew they were Shrikebots and felt a burst of hope. He blasted fire into the air to attract them, then soon the messengers crashed down beside him, heaving and twitching. Their metal was scorched black, and their beaks and talons were dulled from melting. Savagery rested in their eyes although they did not attack him, a craze that unsettled Lazerback. They did not seem to be themselves.

"Fire, fire," one of them cracked. "All is burning."

"Where?" Lazerback froze.

"East," the other hissed. "On fire."

"What about the West?" Lazerback gasped.

They swayed. "We will see."

"You have to help us find a safe place," Lazerback gasped. "The King still lives!"

"King?" The Shrikebots blinked at each other, minds slow.

"Ah, ah…" one Shrikebot said. "Good for him. But there is nothing to rule. Every Predacon for themself now."

"What?" Lazerback barked, the tingling making him especially irritable. "This hasn't gone on long! You are just going to abandon us?"

"We will serve again, if we live."

"So you won't come back?"

"We will go west… You should too and find deep places. Cold places. The bipeds and animals already did, but now for us… Too late. Holes are getting covered, where to go?"

"How deep?" Lazerback glanced back at their own hole.

"I think very deep. Or else the fuzzy feeling will kill…"

Lazerback felt that very tingling as they spoke, and now his expression turned frightful.

"We will go now," said a Shrikebot. "We have to chase the night. Day is coming! Fly, or hide now."

The two flapped off as quickly as they could, but Lazerback supposed that in a time like this, it had been surprising that they had landed at all. Every Predacon for themself… yet, no one wanted the race to go extinct. _Extinct_ was not a word they had in their language, but for the first time, the concept was entering their minds. If they did not act now, it could be possible that every Predacon would perish.

Lazerback tumbled down the hole and woke the others.

"They are dead," he growled. "We are the only ones."

"Dead?" the Predaking shrieked. The others jerked at the volume in the close quarters, then they followed him as he clawed his way up the tunnel.

The sight of so many dead Predacons shook the Predaking to his spark. Never could he have imagined one thing so powerful as to be able to do this, but there lay the Predacons, fading in and out of view with the puffs of smog brought by the wind. As a being more feral than civilized, the Predaking did not know how to handle his distress and fury, thus he screeched and blasted fire toward the damned sky. However, this enemy could not be touched, so after exhausting himself, the Predaking lay down and snarled.

"What is this?" he hissed. "Everything was fine for hundreds of seasons. This is not normal- someone _made _this."

"I do not think so," Twinstrike murmured. "I think there is an explanation."

"The bipeds!" the Predaking cried. "They did this! They create weapons of concentrated fire- they must have done this to the world! Remember how they fled so soon- they knew! They knew, because they intended to exterminate the Predacons!"

Twinstrike widened his eyes. "I do not think so. The sun and the sky were red long before this…"

"They changed the sky lights," the Predaking growled.

"The sun is far away," Twinstrike tried to explain. "It is a ball of gas and fire, enormous and-"

"Where did that green biped go?" The Predaking remembered at last. "He fled, didn't he! He saved himself and left us to die, because those puny creatures want to take the world from us!"

The sun that the Shrikebots had fled was beginning to rise. Unseen, yet flaring with insentient rage. For a moment, everything brightened and made the Predaking believe that all was returning to normal. Then, the patches of fine dust high in the air began to ignite with bursts of orange and yellow. Strange lights and huge veils flickered in the sky, exploding into iridescent colours and mesmerizing the Predacons.

Despite the burning prickle of radiation, the Predacons lay for a few minutes to observe the beauty. Then, the Predaking's mind cleared and suspected that there was danger behind this show. He hopped onto his feet, and the other two jogged to his side.

Lazerback shook his aching head and remembered to report.

"Words from the East say that everything's burning. Shrikebots flying told me it. They the fastest flying bots." Lazerback blinked, wondering why his cloudy brain had added that. He went on, "Came from far, far away, chasing the night. Said need deep, dark places. Cold places… Can't find."

The Predaking narrowed his eyes in anger and worry.

Twinstrike shook his heads. "There is something in the air, but I do not know how to describe it in our language. Storm told me about it… _Radiation_. It is not heat… but it is damaging our minds. I cannot even sense which way is home anymore."

The other two dug in their claws when they realized too, that they could not feel the pull of their homing instincts.

"All signaling has gone," Twinstrike sighed, then he pointed toward his audio receptors. "_White noise_. Static. Silence… I don't hear or see well." He blinked roughly to punctuate the next point. "I can't clear my optics. We need to get out of here."

The Predaking had always despised retreating, even to save his own life. And when he had fled after Skystalker had taken his land, he had planned to come back. There always had to be a counterstrike, otherwise, he was a sorry excuse for a Predacon. Here, however, there was nothing to plot against and fight… This was hiding for certain, and the Predaking had never truly hid from anything in his life. He would have stepped on a Predacon who had.

For the first time, he considered hiding from a greater power, only since it was a little past dawn and he could feel the temperature climbing rapidly. If it continued, overheating would expand his body and severely damage him like the bloated bodies of the winged Predacons. His extremities would melt, possibly off- his fangs, claws, and tail… it did not bear thinking about.

And yet… the Predaking could barely contemplate leaving the territories he had guarded for centuries.

"You're proud," Twinstrike said. "But you're not an idiot. If those Shrikebots are flying westward, we should too."

The sky still crackled with its attractive sparks of beauty. Lazerback watched it with mournful eyes, and sighed. "How can something so bad look so good?"

Twinstrike kept using jargon that no one understood, so perhaps he really did have a greater idea of what was going on. Perhaps it was _not_ the bipeds' fault after all.

"What is that exactly?" the Predaking asked him while pointing at the lights.

One of Twinstrike's heads observed the sky while the other twisted to regard him. "As far as I can tell the _solar storm _is stripping away the _magnetic shield_. _Electromagnetic catastrophes _are not far away… They are already upon us, but I suspect that they will get worse."

Yet more strange jargon that were made of Predacon words, but absolutely incomprehensible to anyone else but Twinstrike.

"Meaning?" Lazerback asked.

The Predaking did not want to admit that he should have listened to Storm and learned of science like Twinstrike had. He pretended to have some understanding and uttered, "Meaning we could be killed and never see it coming…"

It was time to go.

"Predacons- to the air. We fly into the night. It is safer in the dark."

"What about the border patrols and the food?"

"Wake up, Lazerback," Twinstrike muttered. "No Predacons left, no borders. No one is going to challenge us."

"We feed on the way," the Predaking answered, trying to sound confident. "We will return when this is over."

Perhaps it would be true. They could live underground for a short while, then return and live as they had before. His ignorant mind imagined that this would be over within the year. Spreading his wings, the Predaking leapt into flight with the others launching after him. However, they could not travel faster than the sun, especially with all the time they had wasted talking.

* * *

Blackbeak's sense of direction was still intact, stronger than other Predacons since he had once trained as a Shrikebot. They headed eastward with many breaks, but then, Blackbeak and Storm were forced to retreat when they confronted what the Shrikebots had been fleeing.

There was fire and rivers of molten metal, and thick clouds of poison that sickened those who vented it in. Blackbeak spun around, fleeing it because he was sure that they would not find bipeds here.

_Where should we go now?_ he thought. _Northward? We have to find someone…_

But maybe it was too late. Maybe all the bipeds had already gone underground, and they were flying for no reason. Storm stayed silent and gripped him tighter than usual, thus Blackbeak feared that the same thoughts were running through his mind.

Wet droplets began to fall from the sky. Blackbeak twitched when one hit his tail feathers, stinging the metal.

"Aie," Storm jerked.

More fell down upon them, proving themselves to not be going away anytime soon.

"What is this?" Blackbeak asked.

"Acid rain," Storm gasped. "Quick, start looking for shelter! If this gets worse…"

And it would. Blackbeak scanned for a hole or cave as the rain gradually got heavier, burning them and spotting them with holes. They hissed in pain, then cried in joy when a dark mouth in a mountain was spotted. Blackbeak banked and brought them down, then both trotted inside on foot.

"Ah," Blackbeak sighed and shook out his metal feathers. "Much better. Let's wait this out…"

He wanted to sound optimistic, but they were losing more time. Storm took the energon processor and dragged it with him to the back of the cave, then he sank down to the floor. Exhaling, Blackbeak waddled back to join him, for there was nothing else for them to do but listen to the splatter and sizzle of acid rain outside.

* * *

Skystalker blew his icy breath over top of the remaining bipeds on the surface. Far from the equatorial storm, there was no wind to whip away his refreshing crystals. The journey here had taken time, but it was cooler in these parts. A deep tunnel had been scouted out, then a roof of lead had been built over the area to protect them from the radiation. Even during the day, they could work here, with Skystalker's puffs of cold, and constant changes between the workers outside and down below.

Azure lay under the roof with him, and there was not much room, so she was crammed against bipeds. Irritation scrunched her eyebrows, but she tried to ignore them.

"Why can we not just go down already?" Azure sighed.

But they knew the answer. Not only did they have to go far down, they had to be under the right kind of element to block out the radiation. The kingdom was working swiftly to create a protective dome under which they would all pack together and go into stasis lock. The distance to the dome under-construction was so long that bots created a line to the surface to pass materials along.

Still, the occasional meteorite blasted the area and spooked the Predacons.

"Hurry _up_," Azure often hissed.

Then, yelling raced up the line and reached the Predacons.

"Scraplets!"

"What?" Azure asked. She had not been taught that word.

"_Scraplets_," Skystalker translated. "Scraplets have gotten into the tunnel!"

"No!" she snarled. "Pests! I will make short work of them!"

The silver Predacon charged forward roaring, and everyone leapt to the side as Azure plowed through. Her broad body pressed and scraped them across the wall as she charged down the sloping path, listening for the tiny patter of scraplet feet or the whirring of their teeth.

Skystalker's freezing breath was more effective on these creatures, but no Predacon was frightened of scraplets. Even if a cloud swarmed them, a Predacon spinning and blazing fire could fell them all. Azure pressed past fleeing bots abandoning the area, blue beginning to glow faintly in her throat. It was not the end of the line, but it seemed that scraplets had shot through a tiny tunnel into theirs, causing chaos in the middle ranks.

Still bodies lay where scraplets buzzed over them and feasted. The last of the bipeds who fled had a few caught onto their backs, but these scraplets jumped off to stick to the untouched Predacon. The cloud collectively turned, espying the Predacon and spinning their teeth in excitement at the prospect of huge, fresh prey.

The idea offended her. _These_ tiny creatures, thinking that a _Predacon_ was prey? Azure ignored the scraplets already nibbling her to blast the incoming swarm with intense, blue fire. The delicate animals melted upon contact and dropped, becoming sizzling blobs that stuck to the floor. For the moment, the tunnel was lit with blinding blue, then the darkness returned, only lit by a bipedal light behind her.

Azure walked back up the tunnel, clawing off and chewing the rest of the scraplets clinging to her. She made sure that the bipeds saw her eating them, so that they would know what she had done. The praise bestowed upon her made her swell in pride, but not for herself, but for what she thought to be the superiority of her kind.

_Now get back to work_, she thought. _We need you to survive. _

Then, a deafening boom shook the tunnel, and everyone screamed.

* * *

After Azure had dove into the tunnel, four pairs of hungry eyes gleamed in hope. Skystalker and Azure had not been watching for enemies, and they had not noticed four skinny heads peeking out and drawing back from behind a hill. They were flightless Predacons who had stalked the bipeds once prey started to vanish, but they were not the usual, heavy brutes that stomped on two legs. These Predacons were a band of one subspecies, slender with long necks, middles, and tails- such a subspecies whose clones would one day be sent to Earth and inspire the image of Chinese dragons.

However, they knew Skystalker and Azure, and reckoned that they could not fight both. The predators waited a minute, then shot forward, bounding like ermine towards the surface bipeds.

Skystalker noticed the streaks of colour, then gasped at the sight of four charging Predacons. He glanced at the bipeds, realizing that they were the targets of these starved Predacons. To the villagers, he shrieked a warning, before he charged from the shelter to confront them.

The heat and radiation had sunk into these Predacons while they had waited on the surface. They were vicious, spitting in fury when he opposed them. They then spread out, trying to dart past him or distract him. Skystalker pounced onto one that shot forward, then immediately had to leap and pin another by the tail. The third and fourth rushed forward toward the tunnel, forcing Skystalker to shriek and fall back under the roof.

Skystalker spread his wings and hissed, blocking the hole the best that he could. He had used much of his frost breath and was not ready for another powerful blast, and he prayed that Azure would return soon. The long Predacons circled him, closing in and heating fire in their throats.

_They are fast…_

He could fight wildly and try to defeat them all, but he was sure that at least _one_ would slip past him into the tunnel. While he may then be able to catch up, he would be too late to stop at least one life from being lost.

"You will not pass me," Skystalker growled. "Leave! You will not get a single one of them, do you hear me?"

The four Predacons sneered at him and twitched their whiskers.

"What do you think you're doing?" one snickered cruelly. "You are a Predacon, like us."

"What are you doing with them?"

"Protecting them?"

"Think you can hide with them and survive this?"

They coiled up.

Skystalker snarled, "They are not your prey. Begone and find something else, or you will lose your lives here!"

"You sound like you _care_ about them."

"Skystalker… he used to be so great. What happened to him?"

"He wanted to free us of Prima, so we could hunt these bipeds!"

"He's soft now, gang."

Skystalker collected the cold in his chest, but knew that they were ready with their fire to burn through his freezing breath.

"I have changed," Skystalker uttered.

"You're a Predacon!"

"Aye, a Predacon! Not one of them, idiot!"

"No," Skystalker snarled. "I _am_ one of them!"

He shot the small cloud of freezing particles at the nearest Predacon, but he immediately countered it. All four Predacons blasted and charged, burning him before pouncing. Claws scraped his sides and fangs snapped into his back, and Skystalker rolled as the long bodies twisted around him like snakes.

"Oh yeah?" one barked. "Well then, how about we eat you then, fool!"

They bit into his vulnerable parts. He roared and thrashed as they clung to his body, but his racing mind thought, _Take them away from the tunnel._

As he fought them, he skipped further from the entrance. Skystalker twisted and bit one of them- he did not know if it was neck or body, but the other Predacon shrieked. Then, the shriek was cut off abruptly. The Predacon collapsed, a long arrow sticking out from its head.

Three heads with antlers turned to their fallen brother, but Skystalker's looked on and saw warriors at the tunnel, kneeling and armed with crossbows. He gasped and spun, turning to expose the heads of two other Predacons to them. Before they gathered what was happening, arrows accurately sank into them.

The Predacons screamed and dropped dead, and the last Predacon panicked and zipped away. His short limbs were speedy, hurrying the Predacon across the land as Skystalker recovered. Blood leaked out from multiple stinging holes, but he glared at the last running Predacon.

_No Predacon like that should survive into the next world_. Skystalker's wings burst open. _The reign of beasts is over! These people deserve to live in peace from you!_

He flapped after the Predacon, desperate not to lose him in the haze beyond the hill. Flying, he closed the distance swiftly between himself and the flightless Predacon.

_Yes, once I was a great scourge and an ignorant predator like you…_

The Predacon yelped when claws caught his back and a heavy weight crushed him.

_But a common bully like you would never understand and change._

Skystalker raised his head, the Predacon's blood now leaking from his teeth. He glanced back toward the tunnel and the two-legged silhouettes, but that was when the meteorite struck.

* * *

The acid rain had become a deadly, acid storm. All living things caught under it floundered and screamed until they found shelter or died upon the surface. Creatures as large as Predacons perished in the rain, those who were not lucky. But there was one swift flier who was fortunate to have spotted a hole, and he twisted to dive inside.

A Shrikebot zipped into their cave and crashed into the wall. Heaving and sizzling audibly, the small Predacon looked up with sickly, pale red eyes. His blue feathers were burned through with holes, and his red body was scorched and dirtied with soot from the lands he had fled.

Blackbeak sat up. "Divebomb?"

Divebomb stared at them without comprehension, or as though he could not see them.

"It's Divebomb," Blackbeak said again loudly, while nodding at Storm. They both knew him well; it was the Predaking's head messenger, and usually friendly among Predacons.

Yet they saw that his eyes were pink, then were certain that something was wrong when Divebomb ground his head into the wall.

"Where is the sun, where is the sun…" He muttered, banging his head each time he said _sun_.

"Uhhh, you alright there?" Blackbeak called.

Divebomb blinked. "Who are you?"

"It's Blackbeak," he stammered in reply.

"Black...beak?" Then Divebomb folded his wings and screamed in pain. Storm jolted and hid behind Blackbeak at the sound.

Divebomb then murmured at normal volume, "So... tired."

He scratched lines into the floor, one after the other. Then, he moaned and fell over, wings spread and chin hitting the metal.

"Oh-!" gasped Storm.

Blackbeak hopped over to check him. "Poor Divebomb's alive, don't worry. I think he fell asleep. But he's in rough condition. I don't know what's really wrong with his mind."

"The radiation," Storm explained. "It messed with him."

"Oh, yikes. Is it permanent?"

Storm sighed. "Yes. It was dangerous to be out in the day… But it looks like Divebomb has been flying out in it for a while, searching for a safe place."

"I can't believe he is still even _alive_."

Storm eyed the liquid energon remaining in the container. "We should give him that energon. We can get more for ourselves."

Storm carried over the container and undid the lid while Blackbeak roused Divebomb.

"Hey, friend, you need energon, right? You must be exhausted. Here. Come on."

Divebomb cracked open his eyes. "Hmm?"

"Energon."

"Energon? Did you store prey?"

"No," Blackbeak replied. "Better. This will energize you."

Divebomb caught the sight of vibrant blue and hopped up. He rushed in Storm's direction so fast that the biped squeaked and ran. Then, the Predacon pounced upon the container, biting into it like it was prey, tearing it open and spilling the energon.

"No!" Blackbeak hollered.

But already, the processor they needed was punctured between Divebomb's beak. Blackbeak yanked on the handle in vain, then he battered Divebomb with his wings.

"Stop! Stop that!"

Divebomb bit at the floor where the energon had spilled, but he could not gather it into his mouth. After a taste, he grew desperate for more.

"I need blood!" he howled. "Give me more!"

Blackbeak hopped back in fear when he saw the insanity in those pink eyes.

"Where is the prey?" Divebomb hissed, not seeing Storm as he had hid behind Blackbeak.

Divebomb lunged at the wall and clawed it, searching for holes like those the Shrikebots had once stored kills in their mountainous home. Blackbeak stared at the pouring wall of acid rain that blocked their exit, then slowly opened his wings to hide Storm better.

"There is prey outside," Blackbeak tried, hoping that the insane Predacon would rush out immediately.

Divebomb clacked his beak and scratched the ground. "Where did you get the blood?"

"It was _not_ blood," Blackbeak hurried. "It was energon, pure energon from the ground made drinkable for Predacons-"

Divebomb started sniffing the air intently. He snapped his head toward Blackbeak and began to growl in his throat.

"You are hiding it," he hissed.

Blackbeak backed off. "It-it's Storm, Divebomb. You remember Storm. Ou-our friend."

Divebomb did not seem to remember at all. He padded after them, sniffing and growling.

Blackbeak squawked, "Storm, I'm going to have to kill him. I have to protect you!"

The Shrikebot was twice Blackbeak's size, but perhaps he had a chance. Small and fast, Blackbeak could hit him in his weak spots, and hopefully Divebomb was too injured and weak to hurt him.

Blackbeak shot for Divebomb's face, flapping and aiming his talons for his eyes. Fast movement prompted the starving Predacon into attacking, and his beak crunched down onto Blackbeak's feet. Shrieking, Blackbeak battered his head with his wings until he was released. Through the thrashing wings, however, Divebomb spotted Storm alone and charged.

The tiny Predacon fell from his mouth, twisted in the air, and pecked at Divebomb's eyes. Automatically, Divebomb shut them and jerked away, flapping his wings until he struck Blackbeak. Then he turned onto the Predacon, grabbing him from the air with his beak and throwing him to the ground. Divebomb stepped onto him, hissing in ire before biting deep into his shoulder.

The taste of energon excited him and made him forget it was another Predacon below him. Divebomb snapped his head side-to-side until Blackbeak's wing tore free, then he greedily sucked the energon that poured out. Metres away, Storm was pressed against the wall, shaking as he watched Blackbeak getting torn apart before him by the larger Predacon who blocked the exit. After Blackbeak, Storm would be next except, he did not even want the first step to happen.

Many did not know why the Primes had drawn away. Once, a warrior of light had protected them, but he had vanished so long ago that most had begun to wonder if he had ever existed. He could stop wars, save almost every life, yet it would have only made every Cybertronian cry for him to solve their every problem. Expectant, like chicks with gaping mouths waiting to be served.

But the reason Prima had left was for this very moment.

Storm did not sit back and pray for the aid of a powerful being; he did not think anyone would come to save them in this apocalyptic world. He was alone, the sole one that could do something. His shivering stopped, his spark hardened. For in times of utter despair, when the strong drove the weak to their breaking point, heroes arose.

A growl rose into a roar as Storm grasped Blackbeak's wing and twisted a feather until it tore free. Its edge was sharp, and now Storm clutched it like a dagger and sprinted toward Divebomb's lowered head. Blood boiling, he jumped with his roar becoming a passionate scream. The hoarseness, the raw emotions and fearlessness surprised the Shrikebot. His eyes flicked up just as Storm collided with his face, grabbing on and thrusting the blade.

It slid through his right eye then retracted. Divebomb screamed and scrambled, tripping over his feet while shaking his head. Storm's scream never ended; he stabbed the Predacon again and again, refusing to let go of neither face nor feather to keep piercing the Predacon's head.

Blackbeak watched him and felt awe overcoming him. As Divebomb swung, Blackbeak saw Storm and all of his savage, unquenchable courage, stabbing with all his strength, teeth gritted as energon sprayed past his face.

_His eyes are as fiery as an aggressive Predacon, full of the same strength and determination._

The Shrikebot crumpled with a sigh, falling under the biped. Storm crouched on the Predacon's head, yanked out his dagger, and stepped off.

_The biped just… singlehandedly killed a Predacon..._

Even though Blackbeak had cared for Storm, he had thought he was an inferior being that had needed protection. He had been wrong… Storm was not as weak as he had thought, and his resourcefulness had been astonishingly deadly. Yet most importantly, that passion Blackbeak had thought only Predacons possessed, was within him.

_Grimwing knew all along what he was capable of. He was right… we really are equal._

"Blackbeak!" Storm cried.

Blackbeak gasped. He had understood his clear, harmonic voice perfectly without needing to focus to translate his words. Despite that joyous development, so much blood was still oozing out his wing joint. The small Predacon hopped up, turning his head to weld the wound.

"Don't you dare die on me too," Storm whimpered.

"I don't plan to." He chuckled now in relief. "Pass me my wing."

Storm grabbed it, but kept it. "You can't just… melt it on. You won't be able to control it."

"Alright, smart bot." Blackbeak finished melting the wound closed. "Then we carry it, until we can find your healer bots to fix it properly."

* * *

Here, there was no burning rain, but there was death.

A chunk of space debris survived its journey through the atmosphere and struck the Plains of Iacon. The boom shook the land and dust rushed in all directions like a tidal wave. Chunks of the terrain and meteorite were tossed high into the air, then they all came crashing down in a hail of pebbles. At the impact site, metal burned and reeked, yet despite it all, villagers ran crying toward where Skystalker had been.

No one could reach him, for their feet began to melt when they stepped too close. By the time Azure emerged from the tunnel, they were still clustered there however. Not seeing Skystalker in sight, she flew toward the bipeds in hopes of finding an explanation.

Dread stirred in her spark as she drew closer to the burning site of a meteorite impact.

_No, he could not be there… Why would he be out there…?_

Then she passed over the crater and saw Skystalker's crushed, broken body. She did not notice the other Predacon body with him in her horror; Azure screamed and dove onto the scorched metal.

"Skystalker!" She shoved her muzzle against his cracked shoulder. "What? No! Get up! You cannot be dead! Why are you here? Skystalker!"

Her claws began to melt into the ground, yet she bit into his fractured wing and pulled him back. Somehow she imagined that if he were just taken out of this situation, he would recover and open his eyes. Spark pulsing, she mewled through her teeth until she set him down onto cooler ground.

"Skystalker?"

His eyes were cracked and dark.

"No… Why were you there…?" she whispered. "Why did it hit you? Why… Why are you always the one getting hurt!"

Azure tilted back her head and roared to the sky.

"Skystalker! Why you? Why is it always you? Why is it never me?"

The bipeds saw the Predacon getting worked up into a frenzy and did not know what to do for her. As she jumped about, breathing fire and tearing the ground, they kept their distance and passed the news down the tunnel to their ruler. Stardust the Gold jogged to the surface to see the body of the smaller Predacon "Blue", and while she felt for him, she was glad that her favourite had survived.

Stardust wished she had a lead to pull Azure away, for she did not think it would be easy to convince an animal to follow her. The queen tried anyway, pulling on Azure's arm and murmuring, "Come on, Silver. Let's get you down."

Azure growled and resisted at first, digging her claws into the ground.

"Please don't make this difficult. We don't want to lose you out here too…"

Then Azure remembered what she had spoken of with Skystalker. All the other Predacons would perish without the knowledge and help of the bipeds. She had to go down with them and survive this, then in the new world, she could be the only Predacon remaining. Although she would be free and the most powerful being (she thought), the prospect was not exciting without Skystalker there.

Now, she would be alone…

_Is it even worth it anymore?_

"Silver, come on."

_I do not know._

Azure dragged herself slowly away from the body, head turned to it the entire time she trudged with the queen back to the tunnel. She knew that as time went on, she would forget how he had looked. Pain twisted her spark, and sadness was a foreign feeling to the feral predator. Skystalker was horribly mutilated, and yet, Azure needed to burn the colour of his blue into her mind so that the memory would remain there for as long as possible.

_My saviour… I would never have gotten here without your genius._

Her green eyes passed over his broken feathers, then she slipped into the tunnel.

* * *

They flew in V-formation, heading westward and assuming it was, since Lazerback said that the Shrikebots had travelled this way. However, they were eventually worn down just as they had been in the great migration. Heat, pollution, radiation, and fierce wind brought them to the ground to wait for the night. However, they could not find deep shelter to fully protect them from the radiation of the day. Soundless buzzing in their minds ground their nerves, making them want to snap at each other if they so much as touched each other.

They could not sleep, and once they left their shelter to continue westward, they were not able to find any more shelter. They searched for caverns and tunnels, but their routes did not take them over areas with anything more than shallow surface shelters, and none large enough for all of them.

They found no live prey, nothing else than scorched bodies melted into the ground. The three Predacons pressed on, itching with worry and hunger. Once, they spotted a writhing, flightless Predacon fighting a boulder and smashing his head against it. Averting their eyes, they soared on as fast as they could with Lazerback's pace.

By the time two days had passed, the Predaking knew they were doomed. The prickle in his body had become a maddening buzz that never stopped. There were simply not enough living bots on the surface to eat, and they were all terribly weak. Shelter could not be found in the melting, cracking ground, and now the night was fading as the sun returned in red might. It was moments away with its flares clawing at their fleeing backs.

_We cannot run… we cannot keep up the speed._

They shuddered in the air and dropped.

_No, do not give up…_

The Predaking tilted in landing and crashed onto his side. With his face pressed over the ground, he felt the light intensifying and waited for it to take him-

_No!_

The Predaking glimpsed a crevassed region over the cliff edge before him. The metallic rocks had been blasted into fractured gorges by some of the meteorite impacts.

"Rise!" he called to the others. "Shelter! Down there in the ground!"

Lazerback and Twinstrike quaked and stood up, just as heat swept across them as the line of dawn crept relentlessly, blinding, from tails to heads. For the Predaking, the buzzing became a shriek on the end of his nerves, but in his focus to persevere, he suppressed the craze. He had to think straight, he had to get them down into the crevices to find a cave before they perished here where they stood.

The Predaking glanced at the others, then watched in disbelief as Lazerback charged him. The light of intelligence had faded from his eyes as he pounced, latching onto his side to bite and claw his hide. Screeching, the Predaking flared his wings and shoved him off, spinning and staring with widened eyes.

_Why is he attacking me? Is this hunger or madness?_

Twinstrike had been encouraged by Lazerback's attack. He lunged at the Predaking, each of his heads striking in different directions. Yellow teeth snapped into the Predaking's arm, just as Lazerback regained his balance and rushed him again. With both on either side, the Predaking fought through his weakness to defend himself.

_No! We cannot fight, there is no time! We must get to shelter-_

The Predaking struck Twinstrike then Lazerback, but the Predacons did not have the intelligence to stay down. Both dove for him as though they had forgotten who they were dealing with, fighting not for survival, but fighting mindlessly like sun-crazed zombies.

* * *

**The End draws near...**


	19. Chapter 18: Night

The sky fizzed with miniature, colourful explosions and streaks of lightning after the acid rain had ended. The green flier and the small, wounded Predacon left their shelter and climbed down the burning paths with expressions of pain. Since Divebomb had bitten Blackbeak's legs, however, he was limping and stumbling. Storm looked back through the smoke, seeing Blackbeak further behind him than he ought to be.

After dashing back, he squatted under him and pushed the Predacon onto his back.

"What are you doing?" Blackbeak cried, nearly dropping his severed wing from his mouth.

Storm grabbed him behind the knees and jostled him higher over his flattened wings. "You can't walk, Blackbeak. I'll carry you."

"Carry _me_?"

"I am stronger than I look."

After seeing him slay a Predacon, Blackbeak was not going to doubt him. Still, he noticed how slowly they were travelling now that Storm had to carry him. His eyebrows scrunched up in regret.

_I'm slowing him down, _Blackbeak thought. _This isn't good… We can't afford to travel slowly! We need to find his people and get help, and they might all be gone today…_

Apart from the rumble of the cracking land, the wind, and the sky explosions, there was an uncomfortable silence as they realized they were alone. As Storm trudged on, they saw nothing but bodies for hours, no creatures flying through the wind or scraping their bellies over the ground. A feeling of doom overcame them as they realized that all who may live had already gotten away, and they were far behind.

Blackbeak felt Storm's hands readjust their grip once again, and they had been doing that often lately. There was no doubt about it; Storm was getting tired.

"I'll walk for a bit," he said.

The Predacon wiggled off him and fell onto his crushed legs. Unintentionally, a squawk shot out of him and terrified Storm into trying to collect him.

"No! You can't keep carrying me," Blackbeak argued while shuffling back. "We don't have more energon. If you run out before we find the others, you will die. You are exhausting yourself."

"I can handle it," Storm pleaded.

"Worse than that, I am slowing us down." Blackbeak stared down at his legs and the wing he had dropped.

"That can't be helped," Storm said. "You cannot walk."

It was easy to read Storm, for he was always expressive in the face and wings. In horror, Blackbeak realized that no amount of arguing would convince Storm to leave him.

He wanted to sigh, "_We left because we wanted to find answers about this, to get help and save the Predacons. But I don't think the Predacons can be saved now. The Predaking, Twinstrike, the others… They must be dead by now. If Divebomb became like that…_"

Storm gathered Blackbeak onto his back and gripped the back of his knees.

Blackbeak's mind screamed, _Leave, Storm! Run! The Predacons cannot be saved, and they are not worth being saved! _

Storm stared forward, marching on slowly with the heat and radiation pressing down on them. After several minutes of quiet between them, Blackbeak began to growl and twitch.

"What is it?" Storm called to him. "Are you in pain?"

Blackbeak gave no answer, but jerked and made Storm frown. After another few minutes, a snarl came out from over him and Blackbeak dropped his wing.

"What? What is it?" Storm cried.

Blackbeak flapped, tipping Storm off balance. Crushed into the ground, Storm yelped as the legs slipped from his arms and talons pressed into his back.

"Ow! Blackbeak, what are you doing?"

The only answer was a growl above him and talons tightening their grip.

"Bl-Blackbeak?"

The fresh memory of Divebomb's mad behaviour clutched Storm. His red eyes widened and he tried to squirm free while thinking thoughts of denial.

_No, he can't have gone mad so fast. But he was over me, exposed to the radiation, and maybe it affects Predacons faster-_

_But he wouldn't attack me, he is my friend!_

A beak shut on the back of his neck, pressing in. Storm shrieked, "No! It's me, Blackbeak! Stop!"

The metal released its grip and the feet shuffled to the side. A sigh escaped Storm as he rose and looked back to Blackbeak, then it cut off when he noticed how Blackbeak glared at him. Twitching forward, Blackbeak opened his beak and hissed.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Storm cried. He glanced at the fallen wing full of sharp feathers, but knew that he could not bring himself to stab Blackbeak like he had with Divebomb.

Caterwauling, Blackbeak charged at him with neck outstretched. Storm skittered away, slipping away from the snapping beak when the injured Predacon stumbled. Movement was heard behind him, and Storm rushed on with a backwards glance. Blackbeak was back on his dented legs, shrieking maniacally and charging after him.

Storm swerved around a body, and Blackbeak crashed into it as though he had not seen it. As he got caught in it, Storm raced on ahead to gain extra distance. He began to get swallowed up by the smog, but his figure looked back to the Predacon. An eerie shriek erupted from Blackbeak as he tugged himself free and hobbled after Storm like an undead being. At the sight and sound, Storm tore into the thick haze and disappeared. More of the deranged cries filled the air, but they grew distant in volume the further he ran.

A while later, Blackbeak stopped and sighed. Lowering his head with guilt, he thought, _I had to. He never would have left._

However, the Predacon was chilled by his certain fate.

_He has a chance now, but as for me..._

Blackbeak turned his head in another direction, feeling the faint draw left that would guide him home. He even knew that they were close to the territory they had left days ago.

_So much has changed, growing worse so fast… I have to hurry._

He picked up his wing and forced himself to limp slowly away, knowing that his pain would soon end and he could rest forever.

* * *

The Predaking's mortal combat with his brethren was oblivion with flashes of lucidity in which his body moved beyond his control. Time passed but he did not know how much, but there were many times when the fighting had paused as all collapsed in pain, heat, and sickness. The dust clouds rolling above brought no shade from the intense sun, so they rested and collided in intervals, clawing and biting and knowing no other world apart from this.

But in those flashes of consciousness, the Predaking realized their predicament. He saw the end of the Predacons, in this ridiculous, mad fight against the stars and each other, and marveled that it could come so suddenly and out of nowhere. Here, his body would be humbled and burned like any other into the land, for he was helpless and not the all-powerful being that he once thought he was.

_And where has Prima gone? _the Predaking thought. His imagination could not picture the proud, white bot suffering through the storms and the heat like everyone else. Prima would not be defeated like this, for he was stronger than the Predaking had wanted to admit. He was gone, and the Predaking chuckled in despair.

_My kind was meant to stay away from the bipeds, where each would take care of their own. But I never realized the mistake in making an enemy of the Prime. Now, he and his people looked after themselves, leaving us to our fate._

Twinstrike lunged for him, and the Predaking batted him away.

_Save us, Prima. Forgive me. _

That memory seemed so distant now: the day the Predaking had chosen that the bipeds were not of interest and he had eaten one of them. It had seemed so insignificant for centuries that the Predaking had killed one of Prima's people. Even now, the Predaking did not think it warranted such cruelty from Prima. Would the Prime seriously leave them all to perish out here because of the Predaking's error?

"Come to me, Prima! Please, spare us!" he hollered.

He had thought Prima was all-knowing and all-seeing, so when there was no appearance, he thought that Prima was standing by and smirking at him. After a long screech to the lightning-filled sky, however, he accepted that Prima was not here. Once again he thought that Prima was underground and safe, no longer here to watch the Predaking's death.

_What being greater than me could come to my aid? _He barely had time to raise his eyes to the sky before Lazerback attacked. _There must be someone out there!_

The memories in his spark recalled a name he had heard few times in his life, first muttered by Prima. A Prime, but one that resembled the Predacons and was said to be like a father to them.

_But he too is gone, more than Prima. He is in the life-giving pit, deceased._

The Predaking still called to Onyx Prime in a long wail that trembled in weakness. Teeth crunched into his arm and from the other side, Lazerback's lazer shot into his chest. Roaring, the Predaking raised a hand and pushed against the beam to protect himself.

In the lack of an answer and through the pain, however, the cry for Onyx Prime had triggered an ancient memory.

There was a deep ability inside him that some beastbots had, including all Predacons, although none had ever discovered it. It required partial transformation, the unlocking of a new weapon. Staggering from the impacts of the lazers and Twinstrike's fire, the Predaking summoned the strength to transform his arm into a blaster. Pointing at Lazerback first, he fired a few shots and misses before the frequency beam struck Lazerback's head. His back's lazer powered off and he slumped, then Twinstrike was felled by the same weapon.

Their bodies obeyed an ancient signal and slowed into a crawl, then they lay and slept the deepest of slumbers: stasis lock. Instinctively, the Predaking knew that they were not dead. The Predaking observed his work, his broken friends, and with his remaining strength, he began to drag them by their tails toward the cliff. There, they tumbled over the side into the gorges, where the Predaking seized them again and sought a large cave.

At last, he had found shade from the melting heat. Legs heavy, the Predacon continued to pull the two Predacons with him deeper into the tunnel he had found. He prayed around each curve that the tunnel would not end, that he had successfully found them an entrance into the depths of the planet. It carried on, and he worked, rested, then worked again, dragging them into deeper silence below the surface.

He had never been at such a depth before, so far away from all he knew. The tunnels were lit by crystals of energon and the glow of their bodies, and the air felt stale as though nothing had moved here in thousands of seasons. The Predaking and the bodies dropped through a hole into a dark cavern, and after he crashed and lost his grip, he thought that they had gone deep enough. The horrors of the outside no longer felt real here. It was cold and calm, where the smog and the poisoned air could not reach them.

The Predaking pulled Twinstrike and Lazerback into the centre of the cavern and arranged them so that it looked as though they were sleeping. The Predaking was glad that they would not die in darkness and shame. They would rest, and even if they never woke, it was best to lie dormant forever with their dignity.

Nevertheless, the Predaking sensed that they could naturally wake from the stasis lock. As he transformed his arm and pointed the weapon at his head, he felt his internal clock setting.

_I do not want to know when I will wake._

The Predaking listened to the planet groan faintly, and he thought briefly about it all. What had his life been for? All his struggles for power and arrogance seemed so meaningless now, and he had never considered that his strength had been a gift. What other ways could he have employed it? How different would his life and all Predacon lives have been if he had taken another path, choosing not to slaughter animals at his creation? If he had not rejected the bipeds but instead had entered their village to learn?

_This was my fault. All of it._

He settled down among Twinstrike and Lazerback, then he shot himself with the same frequency blast. His head clattered to the floor of the cavern, and his body lay curled behind it in a ball, so that he too now looked like he was peacefully asleep.

* * *

Storm jogged through the smoke with tears dripping from his face. He did not imagine he would find anyone- hope, he had abandoned once he lost Blackbeak. All he wanted now was to lie down in Blackbeak's hold and die together, but he could not go back. They could not be the cause of either's death, for it would be too horribly tragic. Storm would rather die alone than be killed by Blackbeak and shatter their friendship.

As he carried on, he began to wonder why he was running when Blackbeak was gone now. Without hope and no longer hearing Blackbeak's cries, there was no point to continue on.

_Blackbeak wanted me to keep going. That was his last wish… So I will try, for him, even if I think it is hopeless…_

It was day unbeknownst to him, and now without Blackbeak over him, the radiation was directly soaking into him. Through his exhaustion, Storm's mind began to grow fuzzy.

_Keep running. For Blackbeak, keep looking._

The heat was unbearable and he panted, his vents hoping to bring in cold air. Yet there was nothing but toxic, burning air to fill his body, thus he coughed and felt clogged by the smog. It weighed him down, and the radiation scrambled his signaling, affecting his command of his limbs. Slower he jogged, until he could do nothing but walk.

_Run…_

_Why am I running?_

_For Blackbeak, I have to survive…_

_I can't. I will never make it… I just want to lie down._

Storm halted, shook his head, then trudged on.

Then, he felt a splatter of acid on his head crest. Storm gasped and broke back into a run to search for shelter. A few other small drops struck him as he ran, but his spark thumped heavily as he searched on and found no cover. Here, he sprinted through a large, open plain as the new rain pattered down.

Storm bent over as the acid rain grew heavier, letting his wings take the blows and the back of his hands as he covered his head. Moaning, he did not know what was worse, the burns of the acid or the radiation damaging his body internally. Eventually, the radiation made it too hard to consider. The buzzing grew louder, and he forgot that he was looking for shelter. Screaming, he strode straight on through the acid storm and the most intense radiation of midday.

The small body bent under the sun to the verge of madness. Holes burned through his wings, and the confused bot was thrown into a memory of his wings being torn up before, when he had been dragged over the ground to die.

"_Grimwing!_" he wailed. After a single cry, however, he forgot what he was calling and just mindlessly screamed in pain.

A faint cry arose in the distance.

"_Primus, did you hear that? There's a bot out there!"_

"_Look!"_

"_You can't go out in that- stop!"_

Through the rain, a two-legged silhouette sprinted toward Storm. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, and Storm moved aimlessly toward the figure without cluing in that he had at last found evacuating bipeds. He crashed into arms and went limp, eyes staring away as he was scooped and carried back under a roof.

* * *

Bots stirred and whispered fearfully within the dome shelter. Stardust's people were safe from the cataclysm thanks to the help of Alchemist Prime, and now, so was a single Predacon.

Azure listened as Stardust instructed her people.

"As we practiced, everyone," she murmured. "But now, we shall hibernate for thousands of stellar cycles. The beastbots should react and go into stasis lock themselves when they see us."

Some of the bots lay down and immediately dropped into stasis lock. Azure quivered nervously when she watched how easily they had done it. She and Skystalker had never figured it out after Alchemist Prime had come, but they had assumed that they would get it when the time was right, when they _really_ had to.

"_What if Predacons just cannot go into stasis lock?_" she had asked. "_Prey animals do it to hide, but we are predators- why should we be able to do it?_"

"_The Prime said that all Cybertronian life could do it_," Skystalker had replied.

But had Alchemist said it? Azure could not remember now, and worried more as she tried to go into stasis but did not succeed. She lay down, shaking as more bots fell into stasis lock and their pets reacted and dropped into slumber beside them.

_What will happen if I don't do it?_ she despaired. _Thousands of years, that is longer than all of my life several times over! I cannot even imagine a length of time like that. Energon, there is not enough energon to survive that long!_

Azure glanced toward their stockpile.

_I came here, and if I cannot fall into stasis lock… I'm going to starve to death._

Her claws worked into the ground as she watched the queen walk around to make sure that everyone had fallen asleep before she did. Stardust came up to her favourite Predacon, noticing that it was trembling and still awake.

"I know it is hard; you just lost your little friend," she said. "But you have to sleep now, Silver. Look at everyone and copy them."

_I don't know how! _Azure's mind screamed. _What do I do?_

Stardust went to pet Azure's muzzle reassuringly, but the Predacon hissed and drew back in fear.

"You will get it," the ruler sighed. "Once you calm down, it will come to you. It is part of your animal instincts."

_I am not a simple animal!_ Azure panicked. _I don't know what they are doing!_

Stardust turned away as the Predacon growled and stamped. Scanning the mass of slumbering bodies, she finally decided to lie down herself. Azure gawked, reached out- but then Stardust's eyes went dark.

There was now no one else awake apart from her. The Predacon lay down again and pressed her claws over her head.

_Sleep! Power down for thousands of years! I have to!_

She dug in too hard and began to bleed from the sides of her head.

"No! What do I do?" Azure screamed. "How do I hibernate?"

* * *

These were the final months of life, where Cybertron shut down and the animals scuttled deep into the ground and went into stasis lock. Predacons were stranded and abandoned to perish, but Prima looked forward to the bright future coming for his people. Even Alpha Trion had foreseen a global society and incredible development for the bipeds in the absence of the Predacons.

_A world for them and Orion Pax,_ Prima had thought in a great, underground shelter. _Ultimately, it is what Primus wants. He stopped creating Predacons, after all. It is the end of their times._

Thousands of Predacon lives were destroyed in their ignorance of the situation. With every fallen body, a story was lost, although most were insignificant and no more than lives of hunting and fighting. One story dragged itself determinedly over the land as his talons melted, as acid sprayed him, and as the sun drove him so insane that he almost forgot his mission.

Then, Blackbeak reached Grimwing's cave, lay against him, and passed away. He would never know that Storm had made it, or how damaged he had been. The green flier had barely been able to remember his own name, and his memories with the Predacons felt like a dream. When he tried to speak of them, the other bipeds laughed and pitied him for the madness brought upon by radiation. Then, Storm began to question everything and believe that they were right. Predacons could not speak, for they were nothing more than animals.

The flier would live on, a normal life in the new world as a Seeker. Before then, he slumbered in stasis lock while flightless Predacons scurried through the tunnels, searching for prey that they could not find frozen in stasis lock. Thousands more perished from starvation, Skylynx among them, although he had returned to Darksteel and died peacefully in sleep.

Above, land cracked and swallowed Predacon bodies deep into the ground. The bodies ringing the Predaking's territory tumbled away, including Ripclaw's, and a similar thing happened in the plains where the horde of flying Predacons had died of exhaustion. The land fell, and eventually the shifting metal moved over them and covered them like a blanket. These Predacon bodies were preserved and saved from melting.

A cave sealed and locked away Divebomb's body. Far away in the southern mountains he had hailed from, the equatorial storm raged and expanded. The force of the wind had ascertained that Windrazor's head had been knocked away long ago and buried in grit.

Another meteorite struck near Skystalker's body and smothered it with debris, preserving it as well.

* * *

Azure had panicked until she grew too fatigued. Then at last, she had discovered stasis lock and joined the silence of the shelter. However, she woke early with an incredible hunger while the others remained asleep. She waddled over to the energon cubes, munched one of them, then fell back asleep. However, her internal timer never understood the length of time she would need to be in stasis lock. The Predacon woke every few decades, then discovered one year that there was no energon left.

Her head turned to the slumbering pets. No one had to know.

Yet Azure continued to wake, and when she coughed out the animal remains, she burned them to the walls to hide the evidence. Eventually, a year came when there were no animals left and she was still starving for energon.

Azureflame turned her head now to the slumbering citizens. No one had to know. Perhaps it would be over soon, and one missing would not be noticed or blamed on her…

* * *

Above the Predacons, millennia turned. The sound of the Predaking's head clattering against the floor had been the last sound he would ever make, for he would never wake with Twinstrike and Darksteel. A shifting of plates had crushed them painlessly in their slumber, but no one would ever know how they had come there or what their lives had been like. The collective story of the Predacons was now lost to bipedal kind, and the future generations would peer at drawings of horrible beasts and chuckle in relief that they did not have to live in that nightmare of the past.

The Predaking's name was never known, and his grave was not marked, and so he could not even be forgotten.

* * *

_The Covenant knew of their fates, however, so it is recorded here, though there is no record of where they are, if they still survive. Perhaps it is because the Covenant foresees a future for them._

_The planet's surface changed a great deal in the few years that followed. Once the pass of the dying star was over, it left Cybertron much altered from its previous state. There were far fewer Transformers of any kind, although the small- and medium-sized beings were spared the worst of the Cataclysm and emerged from their hiding places with relative ease. _

_They went back to their business, refining and grading metal, searching out energon, and building mindless machineries that could speed their efforts. Within a few hundred stellar cycles, the barren, rocky surface with its glass-lined pits and deserts of broken stone, was made over into organized structures, smoothed trackways, and regular, accumulated buildings of various metals. Large areas remained uninhabited, marked only by the strange slagheaps of the ancient dead, blown over by the dust storms. But between these arid regions, the first signs of civilization began, against all odds, to prosper. _

The long night of terror was over, and the sun was rising with a beginning. The Well still did not produce Predacons, but a gifted scientist would one day stumble upon the remains of broken beasts and be struck with a world-changing idea.

* * *

**Epilogue to follow.**


	20. Epilogue: Dawn (Predaking's Dream)

He felt like he was dragging himself from a long dream. With a groggy mind, he saw some images fade away until all that was left was a sense that whatever that dream had been about, it had been unpleasant and best left forgotten.

Yellow eyes peeled open and stared through the bubbling liquid and glass. A purple bot stood on the floor and watched him with one red eye pointed to where he floated. The clone felt cramped and small, but as the liquid drained past his horns, he knew that the purple bot was releasing him. Excitement coursed through him as his mind made some realizations despite not having language yet. He was alive, when he had been nothing before. This bot below him was his life-bringer and liberator. Then soon, he would get to stretch out and see more beyond the strange, grey shapes in the laboratory.

The tube lifted, and the Predacon tumbled out onto his feet. Once on the ground, the Predacon realized how much smaller the other bot was. He grew aware of his claws and teeth, but they were a dim realization pushed away by his love for his creator. Taking a step closer, the dark Predacon blinked at Shockwave, until the scientist raised a small energon cube to his face.

The glowing blue ignited an instinct within him. Curious, the Predacon nibbled the cube out of his hand and was immediately delighted by its sweetness. Only Shockwave knew how crucial these first minutes of the Predacon's life were that would change its course forever.

One: the Predacon loved him as its life-bringer and would obey him.

Two: the Predacon was now connected to bipeds and would not indiscriminately hunt them.

Three: It now had a preference for processed energon over blood and metal (although, Shockwave had found advantages in having blood-raised Predacons before. They were more viscous towards Autobots; however, they were likely to kill other Decepticons if left hungry. For a Predacon as large as this specimen, control took priority).

The Predacon had been confused by the swirling, green portal in front of them. After it had swallowed the energon, it nudged Shockwave for a bit more. Instead, the purple bot turned his back and lumbered toward the portal without a glance back. After he vanished through it, the Predacon was left trilling and wondering what had become of him.

Shockwave had known that he would have a few moments before the Predacon followed him. Sure enough, the newly born creature did not know what to do and already missed Shockwave. His sinuous body passed through the green after him, and his horned head was first through the portal. Then, his heavy feet and claws slammed down as he found sturdy ground. The Predacon was unaware of the cowering vehicons beside him as he felt sudden openness all around him. Energy pumped through him after his tail swung through last into this magnificent, new area.

The Predacon's wings flipped open and he spread them while rearing back on his hind legs. As he towered over the Decepticons, he roared in delight, not aware yet of how it spooked the smaller bots. Then, he dropped on his feet and gave another screech, keeping his wings comfortably open in the space outside the lab.

There was a scrawny, twitchy bot that looked quite different than Shockwave, but seemed to be of the same body type. The Predacon thought _body type _instead of _species_, since he believed that he was like his creator but just different in shape. Choked words came from the bot he would later learn the name of. As he spoke, the Predacon felt something familiar about the words. His frame tingled until suddenly, the language snapped into clarity.

"A- a Predacon?" Starscream's eyes were huge, showing much black in his fear. "They- they've been extinct since the beginning of Cybertronian history…"

"Indeed," Shockwave responded, fearlessly approaching the tall beast. "But the specimen you see before you was bred in the laboratory. Cloned from fossilized remains, which I discovered on Cybertron."

He lay his hand over the Predacon's neck, who growled placidly.

"Shockwave." A spiky, silver bot rose from his throne and wandered down toward them. "It does my spark good to see you once again, tampering with creation."

"Master!" gasped the thin, grey bot. "Please, keep your distance…!"

"No need for alarm," Shockwave replied. "The beast is completely under my control."

Megatron stood before the Predacon, gazing at him with admiration as he lowered a head as broad as Megatron's chest. Whining and hissing gently, the Predacon looked at Megatron and wondered what his creator's connection was to this bot.

"Such primal magnificence," Megatron rasped, now calm in contrast to the still twitching Seeker behind him.

Shockwave gathered the Predacon's attention from Megatron, presenting him with a vile of blood. The Predacon turned to it, then narrowed his eyes in recognition. Instinct began to take over and numb his mind as he looked closer. There was a faint scent of metallic blood that made him growl and lust for something he was unsure of. Then, he scanned Wheeljack's blood without much thought, letting the desire to chase control his body.

"Let the hunt begin." Megatron grinned in sadistic anticipation.

The Predacon rocked, twitched, and sniffed, but looked away from the bipeds here. His creator and his silver companion wanted him to go after something, and his body decided that it really wanted to obey for some unknown benefit. Some of the Decepticon grew nervous, but Megatron and Shockwave watched with satisfaction as the Predacon leapt off the sides, soaring with massive wings to the horizon.

By the time he felt close to his target, night had fallen. The Predacon spotted two bots lying over rock and he swept upward for a better look at them. His mind fiddling with words now figured that his creator wanted him to harm these bots, so he prepared then fired a blast at them. These two bots rolled out of the way, and the Predacon slowly swept back around to have another go at them.

Gathering speed, he dove down and fired again, but the green bot popped into a strange shape and hurried away. Glancing away from him to keep his focus, the Predacon crashed into the ground before the white bot, the source of the energon signal.

_Here he is_, the Predacon thought, but hesitated while opening his mouth. _What am I supposed to do with him now?_

Wheeljack roared and blasted beams at his face. Surprised by the pressure and pain, the Predacon turned his head and shut his eyes. His tail swung around and struck the shooting bot, knocking him off his feet into a rock. Still confused about his mission, however, the Predacon moved after him slowly.

His spark had forgotten the ferocious life he had lived, and the Predacon did not realize that the Decepticons wanted him to kill and consume Wheeljack. Now that he had found Wheeljack, he had no thirst for his blood and did not truly realize what his teeth were for. As Wheeljack remained stunned, the Predacon curiously examined him while prowling closer.

_Perhaps I am only meant to take him back?_

Something fast and hard clouted the Predacon's face. The green bot from before shot past him, and the Predacon turned, rising up to breath fire upon him. Once he tumbled away, the Predacon sniffed and looked around, searching for Wheeljack.

_Where has he gone?_

"Looking for me, beast?" Wheeljack taunted. "I'm right here."

The Predacon stared back and hissed, then heard a beeping sound below him. Growling softly, he looked down. Fire exploded and heat wafted past his face, but his heat-resistant metal did not melt from the grenade blast. Now, the Predacon was thoroughly irritated at his target. It seemed a bit more clear to him that his creator _did_ want this bot to be hurt.

However, there was too much ignorance in the Predacon that held him back. His ancestor would have already stabbed the bot through and been tearing out his guts. The clone wanted to smack and burn instead, for breaking into bodies felt, simply, _wrong_ when Wheeljack was not very different from Shockwave.

When Wheeljack charged into the cave, the Predacon was pushed to give chase. He squeezed through rock and crystals of energon, shrieking and throwing himself into the mine of vehicons. The purple bots screamed in horror and sprinted with Wheeljack from the predator, until suddenly, Wheeljack transformed and drove under the Predacon's huge body.

There it had been again, that strange change. Whatever the bot had done, it was now ripping away to freedom.

_Can they all do that? _the Predacon thought as he tried to turn around in the cramped cave.

After the multiple explosions caused the cave to crash down upon him, the Predacon was less curious and more wrathful. Rocks crushed him and his sensitive wings, making it difficult to shift his limbs. Arching his back, he fought to raise the weight off him. Some rocks rolled away, and he realized that the surface was not far. In one great surge, he broke through, expanded his wings, and screeched.

He whipped his head sideways and glimpsed his target. Just after launching himself into flight, however, a powerful shot spun him away. The next thing the Predacon knew, a flying shape was dipping down toward the bots and scooping them up. He was not entirely sure if it was alive, but it was clearly trying to take his target away from him.

The Predacon raced after the spaceship, cutting through the clouds and trying to ambush it. At last, in the battle of blasts, he managed to strike its side and send it down smoking. The Predacon latched onto the ship and crawled around to the front, then spotted the bots clustered inside. So this machine was _not_ alive, but carrying them to safety. Then, without warning, the ship dropped with such a speed that the Predacon had to cling tight.

Flipped sideways, the ship tried to slam him against a wall to dislodge him. He clung on grimly and roared, until the vessel flipped upside down entirely. The Predacon saw a rock coming for his face, screeched, then was cut off. At the strike, he went silent, tumbling and crashing against the cliff until he hit the ground under a pile of rubble.

It was over. His body ached from dents and stung from blasts, but he burst out and snarled with ire. The ship blasted away, and by now, the Predacon was beginning to lose his memory of Wheeljack's signal. He now set down his wings and tried to think.

_I should go home_, he decided, since the homing beacon remained as strong as before. _He will tell me what to do next._

The Predacon flapped into the sky and headed toward Darkmount.

* * *

It was the burning questions he had that shaped the kind of Predacon he would be. Raised by the bipeds, fed on energon, and separated from Cybertronian animals- the clone was generally peaceful and occupied with thoughts about his relation to everyone else. One of the first things he wondered was _what was he created for?_.

The Predacon had not been successful yet despite his attempts, with those Autobots always escaping him. Shockwave and Megatron did not punish him and still welcomed him, but the clone sensed that they wanted more from him. The only one that seemed to be upset whether he failed or not was Starscream. While the Predacon established that Megatron was his creator's master and demanded expect, he did not know how the Seeker fit in.

He had not done anything personal to Starscream and did not understand what drove him to insult him. When he overheard Starscream refer to him as mindless, the Predacon could only growl and shoot a glare.

_Silence! You were not there to understand why I failed. Who are you to critique me?_

But Starscream's attitude made the Predacon wonder if everyone saw him as something lesser than them. Were they really so different? Sure, there was no one else who looked like him, but the Predacon thought that Shockwave had just made him special, bigger, and stronger. _They_ did not look all the same either, but the Predacon began to realize that he was an outlier. No one talked to him directly to give commands, so they did not think he could understand them.

_What am I?_ he wondered.

Everyone had been calling him "the Predacon" and he had merely thought it was his name, as Shockwave's was to Shockwave. He did not know it was his species until he heard mention of _Predacons_.

_They call those like me Predacons. Is that the name of Shockwave's creations?_

He felt even more different because of Starscream's reactions. While he seemed to be the only bot to get angry with the Predacon, his fear was repeated in some of the vehicons. Yet the Predacon's curiosity had grown when Starscream had been left alone with him. When the door closed, Starscream slammed into it, then turned and screamed when he saw the Predacon coming closer.

He had been annoyed by Starscream for his insults, but he was interested in him. Earlier, the Predacon had seen vehicons transforming and realized that some of these bots could fly. He studied Starscream's wings and thought that he could fly too, and the Predacon wondered if everyone but him could change their shape. The excessive staring and his closeness frightened Starscream into balling up and staying still until the Predacon moved away in boredom.

_Why is he so afraid of me? My creator and his master do not want me to harm anyone here. Does he not know that? Yes, I am angry with you, but I am not allowed to attack you._

The Predacon had backed away, and eventually Starscream grew bold, trying to use force to bring him inside. That, he could not understand. _Why must I go inside when it is more spacious out here?_ Then, he tossed his head and wondered, _Do I really have to listen to this insulting bot?_

Starscream was a constant burr, and the Predacon decided he could be a bit rougher and take advantage of his fear. That might make him respect him a bit more.

_So he knows I cannot hurt him, so he tries to harm me._

His patience had snapped later, when he overheard Starscream insulting him yet again without provocation. Glaring, the Predacon dove down upon him and slammed a hand over his body.

_You should be aware of what I could do to you. Look at how small you are._ The Predacon spread his jaws over him, glad to feel Starscream shaking. _I could fit half your body inside my mouth. _This was only a scare tactic, however, since the Predacon did not imagine that he would actually rip Starscream in half. That could still land him in trouble. Moreover, even if he fantasized about silencing him, he did not imagine that he would do anything else but spit Starscream out.

The answer to the reason why bots were afraid of him came soon. Standing behind Starscream later, the Predacon noticed writing on the screen before them. Something ancient in his spark lit up in recognition of the letters. It was very strange, but the Predacon had had a similar feeling before when he stared into the eye of a dead Predacon clone. He imagined living Predacons filling a world, soaring and standing as far as he could see. He had envisioned other Predacon shapes although he had never seen another living Predacon besides himself.

He watched Starscream type in the password, and he memorized it. Then, when no one was around to stop him, he crept back to the screen to punch in the code. After that, he read the options on the screen and found the promising search bar. He concentrated on how the word should be typed, then guessed and clacked his claw over the letters.

_Predacons_.

The hazy knowledge let him type it correctly. He growled with interest as a cache of images loaded, the first picture being a scan of himself followed by other drawings of Predacons. Then, writing appeared that he leaned forward to read.

_**Predacons- a prehistoric race of Cybertronian mechanimal that existed in the Age of Evolution and went extinct during the Great Cataclysm. Predacons were carnivorous due to their incapability to consume raw energon; they devoured all parts of their prey and filtered out everything but the energon from their systems. Some Predacons have been recorded to have preyed upon the bipedal race in the past, but attacks were seldom. Predacons, by mean size, are the largest recorded species to ever exit the Well of Allsparks [according to fossilized specimens and ancient sketches]. Many of them were flight-capable with wings composed of metal blades or flexible fabrics; these variations had two to four legs, with the two-legged Predacons being significantly smaller on average. **_

The Predacon scrolled along.

_**Most Predacon fossils are not well preserved; however, pyrovalves have been recovered: the organ responsible for the fire-breathing capability allegedly possessed by most Predacons [link: pyrovalves]. Predacons are assumed to have temperature-resistant metal. Other Predacon abilities have been recorded but not yet proven, this including venom, acid spray, electric shocks, and frost breath. **_

No one came up onto the roof to check on him, so he lay and continued to read every line. Everything had been beyond his imagination and mostly awed him. Apparently, Predacons had once been everywhere and dominated all the lands as the largest and most powerful race. He couldn't help but puff his chest out a little, especially when he glanced over the pictures and saw that he was the largest recorded specimen to date.

_I must be the clone of the most powerful Predacon that existed._

His ancient memory watered the first bud of pride, but this did not make the Predacon want to turn against the Decepticons. He had to admit that the predatory nature of his ancestors repulsed him, and he did not know why they had not just lived with the bipeds. Life was quite nice for him here, and killing bots just for energon seemed cruel and unnecessary. Then, the idea that some Predacons had consumed bipeds was beyond taboo for him.

Now he understood why Starscream had been afraid of him. The Predacon grimaced, revolted at the idea of swallowing and tasting someone he hated. What Predacon in their right mind would have wanted their enemy inside them? His teeth and claws would firmly only be for fighting. Now though, the Predacon stirred unhappily because the article had called them mere animals.

_They have no idea that I am an intelligent life form. How will I ever communicate and express the feelings inside me?_

He had heard that there were more Predacons coming, others like him who would understand. However, he could not even talk to _them_ unless he figured something out. On the roof, he practiced growling to sound as close to the bipedal language as he could, but it came out poorly.

_What point is there for me to understand their language, if I cannot speak it?_

It frustrated and saddened him, and he wondered if this was why Predacons and bipeds could not get along in the past.

Time moved on however, as he waited for the others to be created. The more real the prospect of company seemed, the more his spark urged him into leadership. He remembered his size and felt that perhaps it was his destiny to lead the other Predacons with benign strength. No one would match his power and passion, and he believed that his love would hold them together. For yes, he had begun to love his race after reading of their tragic end. A future where the magnificent race was restored and lived happily with the others was a fairy tale ending for his spark.

_The Decepticons are doing a wonderful thing. I will lead my army and defeat our shared enemies, so that all can live in harmony on Cybertron._

He could not wait to see the home world in proper. Earth had awed him, but he wanted his race to inhabit the lands that had been empty of Predacons for millennia.

_As soon as the Decepticons are victorious, we will go there._

With the help of the Predacons and their varying abilities, the Predacon was sure that they would soon win. He wondered though, where they and the laboratory were being kept. Unable to ask, he waited longer until the answer would come to him.

The Predacon watched vehicons come and go, jetting away on missions and paying him no attention anymore.

_If I am intelligent like them, I must be more than an animal. Could I be like the others? Is there another shape I can take?_

He did not think he would be able to become a bot, for that was their primary form and they became something else. Since his primary form was the beast, then he thought he would only be able to become a (very large) car or jet. It was difficult to tell, for he checked himself and saw no wheels, tracks, or wings. Those were always obvious on the other bots, and he only looked all-beast.

_Perhaps I do not transform…_

The day of truth came sooner than he expected. In the midst of a lightning storm, the Predacon perched on a spike of the warship and let the strong wind push into him. For some reason, the warship had stopped and extended an elevator to the ground. Just then, the red bot named Knockout descended in the elevator with a stockpile of green energon.

_There seems to be something important down there. What if it is my brethren?_

He soared downward to the mouth of the cave, unable to follow Knockout in the elevator. Instead, he walked in and found the glow of yellow light that led him straight into the cloning operation. There, Shockwave, Megatron, Starscream, and Knockout stood in a loose group between the rows of clones. Spotting them and the Predacons, he slunk in and shrieked both in announcement of his presence and in excitement.

Before he could marvel and look at them all, Starscream stalked up to him with a stray pole. Immediately, the Predacon's expression soured.

"Unruly beast!" Starscream spat. He struck the Predacon's face along with his words, once again taking advantage of the fact that the Predacon could not harm him. Too bitter to show pain, he stared straight at Starscream.

"You dare to roam freely"-_whack_\- "without"-_whack_\- "permission?"

_Enough!_

The Predacon shrieked in his face, and Starscream's last word slid into a yelp. The scrawny bot tripped backwards out of shock, crashing to the ground and dropping the pole. Digging his claws into the floor, the Predacon stalked after him growling. The sight frightened Starscream so severely that he did not run, but cowered against the rock with a scream.

When he no longer thought _can I transform _but _I will transform_, the Predacon's body shrank in on itself. The need to express his individuality and emotions overrode his old, beastly instincts. For so long, he had wondered _what _and _who am I?_, then knew at this moment that he would _be_ like one of the bots and speak, civil and honourable but with the power of his race hidden within. A head like theirs broke out from his body as he settled upright on two feet. His yellow eyes narrowed and he loomed over Starscream, letting his deep voice finally run free.

"What?" Starscream gasped.

"Strike me again," the Predacon uttered, "and I will bury that rod in your spark."

The secret of the Predacons that had been unknown to all had been discovered at last. Once he had found control of the beast he was, he had become a being like them.

Every eye in the room widened and stared at him. Starscream was too shaken to stand, but scooted back away to gain distance from him. As he did, he stammered, "I-I did not realize that the beast was capable of transformation-!"

"Nor did I," Megatron growled while shooting a glare back at Shockwave.

The Predacon was too furious and distracted by Starscream. He jerked at him and snarled, "I am no _beast_" before stomping by on heavy, crunching feet. Starscream slid away just before he was trod on, but then the Predacon's focus shifted. When he remembered the tubes holding the potential-filled bodies of Predacons, his path turned to take him to them. In front of one specimen, he paused, eyes softening as he looked over its body.

Shockwave rumbled behind him, "The ability to transform is a fundamental part of Cybertronian biology. We simply possessed no evidence that the Predacon species ever reached that evolutionary stage, since they became extinct in the Great Cataclysm."

Starscream drawled, "And _now_ we know…" then snarled.

The Predacon barely heard the conversation, so caught up in his hope was he. With his discovery of transformation, the dream of peace and collaboration was more feasible than before. Eyes starry, he regarded the incubating Predacon and sighed.

"So, the rumors are true. I will no longer be alone."

"And it seems you have been keeping secrets," Megatron uttered with a hint of hostility never before turned on him.

Trying to be as friendly as possible, the Predacon replied, "It was not my intention to deceive you, Lord Megatron…"

He briefly explained his thoughts and development up to this point. After that, he felt bliss that he had never felt before. Everything was going to turn out exactly as he hoped, he thought, as he walked with Megatron back into the ship. He continued talking while the others followed silently like shadows. Pledging his allegiance to Megatron, he asked for his permission to lead the other Predacons once they had emerged, as…

The name surged up from his spark, but he thought he had just invented it.

Predaking.

No longer _the_ Predaking, the viscous and strict ruler who forced power over others. Now, a Predaking, the obvious choice who others would naturally respect. No one realized the change, however, since no one knew who the Predaking had been.

All seemed perfect. His love for the Decepticon cause increased and he fantasized about leading them to glory (he pushed Starscream out of the mental picture, trying to ignore his presence). The day of his army's birth was coming close and he was impatient, excited to meet everyone and show them how to transform. Predaking did not realize until later just how far the roots of history stretched. Old fear touched the Decepticons as they recognized the amount of predatory beasts they were creating. Beasts who were not animals to tame, but intelligent life forms who could think for themselves. Dangerous, strong and carnivorous life forms who might decide the Decepticons were no longer worthy allies.

And so, Predaking was struck by the deepest shock when all the clones were terminated by the Autobots. There was no speck of doubt within him that made him imagine that the Decepticons had orchestrated this to kill the army. All his hatred was concentrated on the Autobots and his loyalty to the Decepticons strengthened for a short amount of time, until the reality of the matter was revealed.

Lord Megatron had feared the Predacons. _He_ had allowed his helpless brethren to be killed, and he had prevented the restoration of his kind. The dream shattered and enraged grief overcame him. Predaking rampaged through the warship, killing all vehicons who stood in his way. When he found Megatron, they locked into battle, with Megatron on the defensive fighting against the brute strength of the Predacon.

_You will perish for what you have done!_

Predaking hollered and shoved against him. The silver master was losing strength, but that was when the second-in-command shot Predaking from behind. Starscream's missile burned and scorched through layers, incapacitating him so that Megatron could fight him off. Dizzy, Predaking hung as Megatron beat him and threw him into the room. As he struggled back onto his feet, Megatron began to say something smug, but Predaking barely heard it.

He blinked wearily until the side door snapped open and air sucked hungrily to drag him outside. Predaking gripped the wall and exclaimed, fighting to stay inside just as Megatron approached. Then, his yellow eyes widened as the warlord raised his large blaster and powered it.

"You should have heeded my advice, and faced me as a beast!"

Purple light, and agony seared into his chest. Predaking spun out of the ship, his wounded body crashing into the spikes. He floundered and shouted in his helplessness, hands reaching out to grip something.

_Do not die. Do not succumb!_

The pain was so great: those burns on his chest and back. Added to this was the emotional pain, perhaps the worst of all, after everything that had happened to him. He would have given everything to regain his dream, the hypothetical life that _the_ Predaking had imagined had he not made his mistakes. The dream before death, the dream he had been reborn to fulfill. This time, Predaking felt that he had done nothing wrong.

Why had they done this to him? What had he ever done to betray their trust? Predaking had been nothing like the beasts of ancient history, and he had done everything they had asked of him to the best of his ability.

Why was he hated and feared?

Why were the _Predacons_ so hated and feared that they needed to be killed before ever stepping into life?

Why were they not given a chance?

Predaking sank his claws into the ship, then crawled upward to lay on a spike. There, he wavered between black and consciousness, the questions of _why_ looping through his mind. For how long he lay, he did not know, for he eventually passed out with his claws dug into the metal. The warship underwent a battle, but he heard none of it. Predaking lay and went unnoticed as the warship passed through the spacebridge to Cybertron, and there slowly, brightening lights roused him to wake.

He rolled and began to climb back up the sides of the ship, not realizing where he was. Losing his grip, he twisted and hung, now facing the sun. Predaking blinked, weariness fading as he noticed the lines of blue crossing a field and metal building speckling the land behind it.

_This is… Cybertron!_

His head lifted high and his expression softened. He had actually made it to the homeland of all Cybertronian life, and for the first time in eras, there would be a Predacon once again calling it home. Him…

_Me_.

He released his hold on the warship and plummeted through the air. Then, he transformed and caught the wind under his wings, gliding forward past the ship into the beyond.

Autobots, Decepticons. All those bipeds had despised him and wounded him, leaving him now alone with only himself. One Predacon, soaring into a new era without a clue as to what would happen now. Somehow, he would have to take care of himself and find clean energon to drink. But then, what would happen when the world filled with more of those bipeds? Would they hunt down the lone Predacon to once again be rid of them?

They had not listened to his honesty, even when he had spoken in their own language and looked like them. The only thing that was clear to Predaking now was that appearances did not mark a beast. Although he was the one with fangs, the roles had been reversed in the world he had awakened into...

May these new monsters leave him in peace.

**The End, a Beginning.**


	21. Afterward: Let's Talk Predacons

Author's Explanation of Story

* * *

Hello everybody and thank you for your interest in this unusual fanfic. The hugest thank you goes out to number one supporter **roxie2120**, whose reviews were a joy to read in the writing process!

As always, I promise to reread the story after some time and correct the typos I see. And before I forget, _Azure and Skystalker are now on my Deviantart _(EmperorKumquat).

I understand that since the story did not focus on beloved characters from the show *cough cough _**STARSCREAM**_* people were not inclined to like it. But I have always been fascinated by the ancient Predacons after the snips we hear about them in Transformers Prime and after I read _The Covenant of Primus_. The interaction between two intelligent races, one predatory and the other not, has always interested me and is the reason I dove into it in _The Marred Pariah _as well. The conflict and discomfort is rich, and I am amazed over how different modern Predacons are to the original ones.

Yet I wrote this story because more questions than answers arose. _The Covenant of Primus_ seemed to contradict the canon, so I strove to create explanations to mend this. The very idea of the story came when I created the character Azure in my fanfiction _The Marred Pariah_. She was the last surviving Predacon discovered in a pod underneath Iacon, who somehow understood their language. She would become a main villain, influencing new Predacons with Skystalker's clone to start a war against the bipeds.

The questions:

_The Predacons are shown to be unable to speak in their beast forms Transformers Prime. However, they speak a complex language in _the Covenant of Primus. _How is this possible? And how was Predaking able to speak perfect Cybertronian just after transforming?_

I assume that the knowledge of Cybertronian is innate in the sparks of Cybertronians, since the books implied that they were forged with some base knowledge of the world. The Predacons saw themselves as different than the bipeds and never interacted with them in _The Covenant of Primus_. It was likely they spoke their own language, created by themselves. Predaking in modern times was raised by bipeds and understood them immediately, as we saw in the show when he reacted to Starscream's words.

_How was Prima able to strike a deal with the Predacons through the language barrier?_

_The Covenant of Primus _tells us that they could move through slow time and see much of what was happening on the planet. Prima and the other Primes could have watched the Predacons develop their language and learned it with them.

_Twinstrike and Lazerback appear to be flightless, yet _The Covenant of Primus _describes them flying. How is that possible?_

I wondered how this happened, but I find solace in the line describing Lazerback as having "vanes" and called only him the wingless one. Despite Twinstrike's toy, he probably _does_ have wings that fold up into his body. Lazerback is obviously a freak among his kind for having vanes and no wings. With the lazer on his back too, it would make sense if he were able to hover in the air and control himself like a helicopter. I had him able to open fans from his body to fly.

_Twinstrike talks about scientific things in the book, although Predacons are feral with no knowledge of science. How does he know what he does?_

I introduced the bipedal character so that knowledge of science could spread to some individuals.

_Lazerback mentions something called "Shrikebots" and calls them the fastest fliers. However, the book never says what Shrikebots are… what are they?_

I made this up on my own. I made them Predacons, assuming that Lazerback would not talk to anything else. I chose the subspecies of Divebomb and Windrazor based on their toys, deciding that they could fly like peregrine falcons and become the Predaking's messengers.

_In _Predacons Rising_, there was a plain of hundreds of dead Predacons, but all of them were flight-capable. How did they get there?_

I imagined they died in a massive migration.

_Why didn't the Well of Allsparks produce new Predacons after the Great Cataclysm?_

This was tricky. The book says that it slowed down animal production to produce more bipedal, intelligent life. But Predacons are intelligent life as well, so perhaps Primus disapproved of them for their abuse of power. I decided to create Grimwing, a test for Predacon kind to right their ways. When he dies, it is decided that no more Predacons would be produced until they could prove themselves as worthy of living among the others. I believe that after the planet is healed in the show, it will start producing animal and Predacon life normally again.

_Where did the personalities of the side characters come from?_

I read the bios of the toys on Wiki to inspire events. Grimwing was honourable, Blackbeak cynical, Skystalker cunning, and Rippersnapper smart among his subspecies. I tried to include every toy Predacon into the story, adding in a few original characters to fill in the gaps. I even took their eye colours from their toy designs! Fangblade and Backlash are real characters in the book, but they are only mentioned. I gave them more story time as loyal followers to the Predaking.

_Why are there symbols on toy Grimwing's wings?_

After his death, he wakes as a clone with a powerful urge to promote himself as a peace-maker. The symbols are Cybertronian cursive spelling _peace_ or something similar.

_Why does it seem that the sparks of the dead Predacons go right back into their clones' bodies?_

This is a mystical phenomenon that I know I cannot explain. I imagine there is some kind of draw. But then, what would happen if multiple clones were made from the same fossil? Probably different sparks would go inside who were never Predacons before. But in the show, Predaking gets flashbacks to ancient Predacon life. It seems that his spark was the original Predaking.

_Why doesn't Shockwave use the same fossil to clone multiple Predacons?_

I think he does, but he wants a variety of Predacons because they have different skills. Based on what they gathered in season three and if you look at the tubes, there are doubles and triples of the same Predacon.

_How did the Predacons die on Earth? What did Megatron mean by "lost to the ravages of time"? Weren't they guarding energon reserves?_

It seems that (according to the book as well) Predacons cannot digest raw energon. Even bipeds process their energon, so I imagine energon becomes impure as it crystallizes and comes into contact with the air. For Predacons, it must be more severe since they were made to consume other creatures to get their processed blood. They starved to death after they ate (!) the Autobots on Earth.

_How did Blaster City get its name?_

I imagined it was a kingdom with big blasters in the past.

_Where was Orion Pax?_

In the Northern kingdom that Hun-Grrr tried to attack. After he awakens from stasis lock, he travels and one days works in Iacon.

_How did Hun-Grrr get that name?_

Because he is stupid and mispronounces Hunger.

_According to the toy bio, Blackbeak generates in the same cloning tube as Grimwing. How does this happen?_

Their bodies fuse together in death and Shockwave accidentally takes a part with both of their CNA.

_What happens to Storm?_

With no memory of his past and a little quirky from radiation damage, he becomes Acid Storm.

_Why did no Predacons survive by simply living underground?_

Many did not go deep enough and died of radiation. Others starved when they could not track down enough hiding animals in stasis lock to eat.

_Were there other TFP characters in the story?_

Yes, I thought Ratchet was out there (because he says he is old!). However, everyone else was not forged yet. Megatron, Soundwave, and Shockwave would probably be forged soon after, I imagine, just in time for the Quintesson invasion (they were there by canon). I believe from the books that Starscream is much younger and was forged at the end of the Golden Age. Then Bumblebee and Smokescreen are even younger, forged just before the War started.

_Are Predacons really superior?_

I know people LOVE the Predacons for being badass dragons who kick everyone's ass. But I do not think they are unbeatable for being the strongest, and I do not like Predacon arrogance. They are not invincible. In their beast forms, they are less compact and their metal stretches out. If one trains in the right way to fight them or has the right weapons, they can be taken down.

And a lesson this story intended to cover was that it does not matter how strong you are. You are not worth more than anyone else. I wrote _The Marred Pariah _to challenge the idea that Predacons are superior by nature. Over the course of 200 000- 300 000 words, Starscream learns to become strong in his own way, acknowledging that his opponents will often be larger and physically stronger than him. (Yes I recommend reading this. I want to inspire anyone who thinks that they are weak, that you can find your own technique to win!)

_What are these Transformers books?_

So _the Covenant of Primus _is a lore book written by Justina Robson that you can buy on Amazon for like $90 (and it has pictures!) The chapter on the Predacons is very short though. Then there are three novels that do not describe Predacons, but the war before Transformers Prime begins. I bought them long ago at Chapters. _Transformers: Exodus _by Alex Irvine, _Transformers: Exiles_ also by Alex Irvine, and _Transformers: Retribution _by David J. Williams and Mark S. Williams. All these books are kind of dry, but if you love lore, you will love them like I do.

_My opinion on Predacons is…?_

I love them and they fascinate me. Their designs are so cool, yet I don't put them above other kinds of Cybertronians. I appreciate the diversity of the Cybertronian races, and this is why Predacon arrogance annoys me. Cars are great! Fliers are great! Boats? Sure! Minicons, Insecticons, and weird animal things... it is fun that there are so many races.


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